Any Other Way
by Adventurelife
Summary: By MSN. An AU idea as to how the first Cars could have worked humanized. Lightning McQueen makes it safely to LA after the three way tie race and becomes the first rookie to win the Piston Cup. However, it was always destined that he would end up in Radiator Springs, one way or another
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This idea came about from a simple question: How could Cars 1 have worked humanized? I mean, it's not like Lightning would actually be able to do all of that damage to the road if he was a human, or have fallen asleep in his car in the first place. So this story attempts to explore a possible canon all for you who like humanized. It's also a bit of an AU as it takes place after the LA race. In other words, Lightning made it to LA safe and sound, blissfully unaware of the very existence of Radiator Springs.**

 **One thing I tried to avoid in this story is to retell the first movie. Because that would be super boring, to write and to read. For that reason, many scenes, especially those in Radiator Springs, will be skimmed over or just mentioned. I've also tried to focus on side characters. Team Dinoco gets their fair share of attention on the tracks, and Doc and Sheriff will be focused on in Radiator Springs in order to not make it a retelling. Hope everyone enjoys and feel free to send a PM if you don't want to leave a public review.**

 **A special thanks to Adventurelife and the-kings-tail-fin for their support and help!**

* * *

There was a companionable silence between the two of them. The _hmmmm_ of the truck's engine fell in sync with the desert landscape surrounding the semi. Every now and then a car would rush pass them, but other than that, nothing broke the peace.

The sun was just warming up the dash with its rays when a _ding_ cut through the silence.

Strip reached for Gray's phone.

"Can I?"

The trucker nodded, not taking his eyes off the road or his hands off the wheel.

" _We're here_ ," Strip read. "Hick's driver."

The Piston Cup truckers all had a shared group text. Despite the competition between the teams, the truckers communicated with each other in order to ensure the safe arrival of the cars. The competition was on the track - not the public roads.

"Already?" Gray sounded surprised. "They must have pushed hard through the night.

"Not nearly as hard as Mack did," Strip commented. Gray shook his head.

"Still don't know how he pulled an all nighter like that. He must have been completely bushed."

"Not to mention insane."

"Well, he likes the kid. Seems he'd do just about anything for him."

Strip was about to answer but got sidetracked as a neon car blazed by his right on the shoulder of the highway.

"Idiots!" Gray muttered, just as another one passed by him.

"Just keep a steady speed," Strip replied, looking over his shoulder before realizing the trailer was in his way.

"Yeah, I will," Gray agreed. He was tempted to run them off the road, but the hassle wouldn't be worth it. Another neon car passed him on the right.

"Where are they coming from?" He exclaimed, annoyed.

"One more," Strip said, the fourth offender taking the less risky route on the left.

Gray relaxed as the cars sped far, far ahead of them, no doubt planning to crawl back into the hole they lived in until night time.

"Where do these guys come from?" Strip asked with a small shake of his head.

"Guess this is what Mack warned me about when he typed 'watch out for neon'," Gray thought back. "Didn't know what he meant at first. Makes sense now."

"Must have been real tired," Strip agreed. "Still don't know why the kid would want to get there first. Doesn't make any difference."

"It's a competition between him and Hicks," Gray laid out. "Apparently, the first one in LA gets Dinoco."

Strip shook his head again, but this time with a small disbelieving smile.

"Don't tell me they actually think Tex will just pick whoever gets there first."

Gray shrugged.

"Guess they think the sponsorship goes with whoever wins. And apparently more time on the track means a better lap."

"Might have to prove them wrong on that."

"Roger happy with your last race?" Gray knew the Dinoco crew chief was pleased with the team's overall performance throughout season, but the last race had been quite the game changer.

"Yeah," Strip nodded. "Our plan is just take the front and keep it."

"Hicks won't like that," Gray grinned slightly, knowing the runner-up was terrible at overtaking the King.

"No, but McQueen's quite the challenge. You never know what he'll do next."

"Think he'll get the sponsorship?" Gray asked, grin dropping. Strip's retirement was hitting the whole crew pretty hard, especially since they weren't sure who the replacement would be.

"Well, he won't sign Hicks, that's for sure," Strip responded. No way his competitor would be the new face of Dinoco. He would give the company the wrong image for sure.

The veteran racer stared at the rolling landscape, thinking about the possibility of the Rusteze kid becoming his replacement.

"I don't know," he responded truthfully. "It really depends how this race goes."

"He's good," Gray said. "Maybe better than you."

"A little," Strip admitted. "But he lacks experience."

"Not to mention he needs a massive attitude adjustment," Gray agreed.

"Aw, Roger'll whip him into shape," Strip grinned slightly at the thought. "Ain't no way kid's gonna fire him."

The thought of Roger going toe to toe with Lightning got a small smile out of Gray, but it didn't last long. He looked along the highway, thinking about how this was going to be his last time trailing Strip and the 'bird to the next track. They didn't always ride together alone. Sometimes the crew was with them, sometimes Strip went ahead with Rotor. But with the unexpected extra race on their agenda, the crew had to quickly rearrange their schedules. Some of them had family plans that just couldn't be cancelled. Rotor would be working his bird non stop to get everyone to LA in time. Lynda and Tex were probably already in the city, but Strip had slipped away with Gray. The quiet was a welcome break from the chaos, and the perfect opportunity to clear his head. Besides, the trailer had everything from a bed to a shower, so it wasn't like he was compromising a good night's sleep driving with Gray.

Sometimes the two would talk about track politics or the upcoming race, sometimes they would drive in silence, but if Gray knew one thing was sure, it was that he was going to miss this.

"Hey..." Strip said quietly, breaking Gray out of his thoughts. Unbeknownst to Gray, his racer knew how hard his retirement was affecting the crew.

"How about after this," Strip suggested slowly. "We go on a road trip?"

Gray shot him in incredulous look and he elaborated.

"We gotta take the 'bird back to Dallas anyway. How about we talk the whole crew into coming with us? It'll be like old times."

"Oh, you mean all of you goofing off in the back until Roger comes to sit with me and complain?"

"Hey... that's not fair," Strip admonished. "Sometimes Luke or I would come sit with you."

Gray smiled slightly and considered the possibility. Strip kept going.

"We'd take it real slow and stop everywhere worth stopping."

Gray gave it some thought and nodded.

"Would Lynda be alright with it?"

"I'm sure she'll understand."

"Make _sure_ ," Gray warned, knowing how assumptions led to petty arguments in relationships. "And check with Tex as well."

"He might just want to come with us," Strip joked.

"I'm sure," Gray responded dryly.

"You up for it?" Strip asked, after giving Gray some time to think.

"Yeah," Gray nodded. "Once those conditions have been met, I'm definitely up for it. It'll be fun."

"It will be."

The two settled into comfortable silence again, preparing themselves for the hectic day ahead. One last race and one last road trip. What a way to end a legacy.

* * *

Mack yawned blearily as he stepped out of the cab. Nine hours. He'd slept for nine solid hours and it was five in the evening. Man, he'd been tired. He fumbled with his cellphone to check on Gray's process, but gave it up. The Dinoco hauler parked a couple of spaces down. It felt weird having so much space what with only three racers. Usually it was much more crowded.

"Hey, Mack!" He turned to see Lightning running over to him. The kid looked like he'd been doing practice laps all day, which he probably had.

"Hey, kid," Mack greeted. "How did it go?"

"Great!" McQueen said enthusiastically. "This race will be a piece of cake."

"Don't be so sure about that," Mack warned. "You got yourself a pit crew yet?"

"Meh, Rusty and Dusty will take care of it," the kid shrugged it off, not really caring too much.

"And what about a crew chief?" The driver asked, getting his Rusteze cap from the cab. The setting sun cast quite a glare.

"Mack, we've talked about this," Lightning rolled his eyes. "I don't need a crew chief. I'm fine."

"You sure kid?" Mack glanced behind him at the blonde. "I've been talking to some of the other drivers, and they said most racers..."

"I'm not most racers," Lightning interrupted. "I'm Lightning McQueen."

"Alright," Mack sighed, knowing the kid was stubborn. He still thought Lightning needed one, but pushing the issue wouldn't convince him. "Still, if you ever need help looking for one, you know I'll help."

"Sure," McQueen mumbled, not planning on ever taking his driver up on the offer. "So, we beat Hicks here, and I think I saw the Dinoco helicopter earlier," he rocked excitedly on his heels. "Dinoco is practically mine."

Closing the truck door with a bang, Mack wondered idly if the kid shouldn't be talking to someone else about these things. He appreciated the company, but it seemed he was LIghtning's only confident, the only one the kid had to talk to. Heck, he was pretty sure he was the kid's only friend.

"Glad to hear it," he said, deciding that being supportive was the best course of action.

"Just wait, soon it'll be hello Dinoco and goodbye bumper commercials," Lightning kept going as Mack walked around the back of the trailer. "I'll have a whole new crew, a helicopter, brand new truck..."

"New truck?" Mack asked, suddenly worried.

"Oh... right..." McQueen stopped, suddenly realizing what he'd said and that his fantasy didn't include Mack. "Um... Well... You know if I switch over, the other trucker guy-"

"Gray," Mack reminded McQueen of the other trucker guy's name.

"Right, Gray," Lightning pulled a funny face at the name. "Well, he'll be my driver."

Mack looked down for a split second. Usually McQueen wouldn't catch the look of disappointed, but for once he was actually paying attention.

"Look, Mack," he said quietly, stepped forward to the bigger man. "If I'd take you with me, I could," he shrugged. "But this will be a big opportunity for me... and I want to make the most of it."

"Yeah, sure kid," the trucker shrugged, starting to check the wires connecting the trailer to the cab. "I understand."

"Rusty and Dusty will find someone else," McQueen went on, but it sounded to Mack like he was trying to appease his own conscience more than trying to comfort him. "And if..." he searched for the right name. "Gray ever quits, I'll put in a good word for you."

"Thanks, kid," Mack grinned, touched just a little bit by his optimism.

"It'll be fine..." Lightning didn't sound so sure but shook himself. "Yeah. It'll be just fine."

* * *

Everyone on Team Dinoco was impressed by the tiebreaker race - except for Luke.

"Really?" He asked as Strip was there to greet him and Lucy at the airport in LA. "You had to make it a tie. You couldn't just beat them?"

"Sorry, Luke, did my best."

"Yeah, yeah, right. Retirement got into your head."

Strip shook his head and turned to Rotor instead. The chopper pilot still had his aviators on but had gotten rid of the gum he usually chewed during flight.

"How was the flight over?" Strip asked.

"Pretty good," Rotor nodded. "Luke kept quiet, which is always a blessing."

The shorter man shot the pilot a look filled with fire, but restrained himself from saying anything in retaliation. Instead he took his wife's bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

"You off already?" Strip asked as Rotor turned back to the chopper.

"Yeah," Rotor replied. "Trying to get the whole crew here in time. Headin' back to Dallas for some sleep. The Chief is flying out tomorrow."

Strip knew he meant the Dinoco Crew Chief.

"Be safe," he called out. "And don't exhaust yourself."

"It's alright," Rotor called out. "I get paid overtime!"

Strip stood back as the airport crew came up and filled up the bird. Rotor pulled on his headset, signalling that he was ready to get out of there.

"So," Strip turned around as Lucy addressed him. "Lynda tells me you boys are planning a road trip." Her arms were crossed, and her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Strip smiled slightly. "Sort of a farewell trip back to Dallas."

"We are?" Luke asked confused. "Why don't I know about this?"

"Lynda phoned me ahead of time," Lucy explained. "I just wanted to say that it's ok, you can go."

"Well, what if I don't want to go this trip," Luke tried defiantly.

"Come on, Luke, it'll be fun," Strip said, knowing the pittie would cave eventually. "You love those kinds of trips."

Luke hesitated, eyes glancing back and forth to the sides.

"Will Gray let me drive the truck?" He finally asked.

"I doubt it... But you can ask him."

Lynda was there with the car. The four of them had dinner at the hotel with Tex.

"Road trip's just fine with me," the sponsor gave his permission. "Just make it back in one piece, alright?"

"I think we can manage," Strip glanced at Luke and the two grinned mischievously.

"You have full coverage on the insurance, right?" Lucy asked Tex teasingly.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "And I'm sending two adults with them."

Strip shot his sponsor an unimpressed look while Luke protested the fact that both of them were responsible adults. They didn't need Roger or Gray to babysit them! Lucy and Lynda shot each other amused looks across the tables. The times between the races where everyone was together and relaxed was so much fun. They were going to miss this.

* * *

The day of the race was clear and sunny - the perfect weather. The whole country seemed abuzz with the news as racing fans crowded around televisions and took official leave for the first _ever_ three-way-tie race. Even non-racing fans planned on watching the event. It was history in the making.

Darrell was practically bouncing up and down in the studio and Bob couldn't help but grin. He'd been doing this for a long time, and pretty much seen it all. But the historic event and Darrell's excitement was contagious, and he found himself a little bit more excited than he usually was.

Security was tight, but the rowdy crowd still got through. By the time the actual race rolled around, drinks had already been poured and officials were anticipating a rough time.

Despite the fact that there were only three teams, pit row didn't feel as quiet as the racers expected. The buzz in the whole stadium and the noise from the crowds around them more than made up for the lack of racers and extra teams.

The space was actually quite nice, and the cars were maneuvered onto the track significantly faster than before.

While Hicks and McQueen had battled for practice time on the tracks, Strip only took about 20 laps. While the other two tried to beat their times, Strip spent most of his time planning the road trip with his crew. His confidence in his abilities and his tendency not to overthink paid off, and when actual qualifiers came around, he placed first, Hicks second, and McQueen third.

"What... come on!" Lightning exclaimed when he saw his time. "I did much better than that two days ago."

"Maybe you were overthinking it," Mack suggested. McQueen shot him a glare but stayed quiet. He knew his driver was right.

Rusty and Dusty came through and found Lightning a pit crew. The two sponsors expressed concern at the rookie's lack of a crew chief, but Lightning just waved off their uneasiness Still, the Rusteze founders became a little bit more insistent to the point where Lightning said Mack could have the job.

"So... um... What do I do exactly?" Mack asked, putting on the head seat as McQueen put his gloves on.

"Just keep quiet and let me do my thing," Lightning said a little impatiently. "If anything happens, let me know."

"Ok," Mack sounded unsure. "Not sure how qualified I am for this..."

"You'll do fine," McQueen said assuringly. "You're the boss, ok? Make sure this crew doesn't mess up."

Satisfied that he would be left alone to do his own thing, Lightning pulled on his helmet and got into his own car before starting his pre-race mental routine.

 _Speed. I am speed_.

* * *

The atmosphere around Team Dinoco was completely different than around Team Rusteze.

"Love you, Strip," Lynda kissed him on the cheek and stepped back, squeezing Strip's hand.

"Make us proud," Tex nodded from the back, and Strip nodded back.

"Last one for the books," he told his sponsor.

Tex and Lynda made their way over to the VIP section, leaving the crew to double and triple check everything.

"Luke, got everything for the trip?" Strip asked as Luke checked his drill.

"Hm, yeah yeah," Luke reported. "Everything's good to go."

"After we win this race," Roger stepped over to them. "You gotta focus first, Strip, now come on."

Strip complied and put on his helmet.

" _You hear me alright?"_ Roger asked through the comms as Strip got in the 'bird.

" _Loud and clear_ ," he replied.

" _Good,"_ Roger settled into his chair. _"Let's give them a show to remember_."

* * *

Hicks watched with no small amount of disdain as Dinoco's golden boy got a farewell kiss from his lady and joked around with his crew before the crew chief pulled it all together. He'd been following that tail fin pretty much his whole career... and he was sick of it.

"You know the plan," his crew chief said. "Stick with it."

"Yeah, same routine," Chick said, glancing at his crew.

"Don't worry about McQueen," one of his pitties said. "His crew's slow compared to us."

"Today's the day, boys," Hicks turned to his crew. "I'm gonna take home the Piston Cup!"

They nodded in agreement, and Hicks pulled on his helmet and stepped into the Buick. A three way tie was the closest he'd ever come to a Piston Cup. No one was going to stand in his way. No rookie kid who thought he deserved a win, and certainly not an old guy who had way to many. That cup was _his_.


	2. Chapter 2

The race started out as the Darrell had anticipated. Strip found his groove and stayed in it, pacing himself. Chick slid in behind him, satisfied to follow the tail fin for the first hundred laps. At least, that was the original plan, until McQueen started giving him a hard time. The kid and the runner-up battled behind the King for a few laps, Lightning just managing to stay out of Hicks' contact range. Finally McQueen passed both of them in a risky turn, swerving before regaining control. Strip let him take the lead and Hicks' crew chief advised him to stay back. It was still early in the race and they needed to pace themselves.

Hicks followed Strip into pit row, and their crews finished the job at about the same time, although Luke swore Team Dinoco was just a second faster. McQueen's pit crew was slower, and as a result he fell to the back again with only 50 laps to go.

"Great!" he muttered pulling in behind the other two. "See that, Mack?"

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about a tire blowing like last time," Mack reasoned. "Go get em, kid."

McQueen sped forward, eyes narrowed as he reached the Buick in front of him.

Roger watched from his position as the two drivers behind Strip battled for dominance. The McQueen kid was good, really good in fact. But he still had a lot to learn.

Strip stayed quiet, focusing in front of him, trusting Roger to give him an update on anything important. They'd worked together for so long now that they rarely talked. But he never forgot that Roger was there, ready to tell him anything that he couldn't see for himself.

They reached the final lap. McQueen and Hicks were still battling it out.

"Looks like they're dancing back there," Bob commented to Darrell, leaning forwards ever so slightly.

"Poor King doesn't have a partner," Darrell laughed, watching Strip enter the first turn with ease.

"I don't think he minds that much," Bob pointed out. "But it's gonna get tough this final lap."

"Ugh!" McQueen exclaimed, as Chick cut him off again. "I'm so sick of this guy!"

"Well, be careful out there," Mack warned as they approached the second turn. The turns always made the truck driver nervous.

Thinking that he'd scared the kid off, Hicks drifted into the line behind Strip for the second turn. Lightning saw his chance and took the bottom line, racing past the other two recklessly. Strip jerked out of the way to avoid a collision.

"That was close," Roger commented as Strip grinned ever so slightly at the kid's spunk.

"Kid's got guts," he replied back.

"Yeah, well, don't let him win that easily," Roger' voice held a disapproving edge. Sure, that move had put McQueen in first, but the only reason there hadn't been a collision was because Strip had compensated for his recklessness. If it had been another rookie in front of the kid, it wouldn't have been so easy.

"Not planning on it." Strip reached the straight and went faster. He'd pass the kid at the last turn.

The crowds roared in excitement.

"It's gonna be close," Bob reported, and across the nation racing fans clutched onto his every word. "McQueen's in the lead, but the King's bearing down on him. This is history in the making!"

"Great job, kid!" Mack cheered from the Rusteze pit. Lightning grinned, basking in the trucker's compliments. Maybe having Mack for a crew chief wasn't so bad after all. "Now, just focus on those last two turns and you're home free!"

"Oh, please Mack," Lightning rolled his eyes. "I've got this."

The racers came into turn three, Lightning opting for the bottom line. Strip took the middle one, trying to see if he could catch the kid from the outside. Hicks tried to push his way past Strip on the right, and Strip blocked. Hicks tried again on the left but to no avail. Forgetting about Lightning for a moment, Strip focused entirely on trying to keep Hicks from passing him. No way he was going to lose his final race to the Hostile Takeover driver.

Hicks growled in frustration as the accursed tail fin blocked his every move. Frustration and desperation welled up inside of him.

"Take it easy," his crew chief warned. "You'll get him on the next turn."

Strip blocked him again, and Hicks growled.

Bob and Darrell tore their gaze away from McQueen to watch the fight below them.

By the fifth block, Hicks snapped.

"I am not losing to you again, old man!"

Strip felt the hit and tried to compensate for it, but it happened too fast. Hicks had clipped him several times before, but this was different. He'd never outright _smashed_ into him. The Superbird spun out of control and no amount of compensating could fix it. He felt the tires leave the road.

It was a nightmare.

Roger jumped up and shouted at him, and the whole stadium gasped, a few fans crying out in distress. He felt himself flying through the air and there was nothing he could do except brace himself when he started rolling.

"The King is out!" Bob exclaimed, and across the nation every eye was glued to a television screen. The crash was horrific, but no one could look away. Roll, _crash_ , roll, _crack_ , roll, _crunch_ , roll, bend, over and over again. Roger heard every sound from across the head set.

"Oh no," Lynda gasped, standing up with Tex. She couldn't breathe.

The 'bird finally came to a halt. Everyone heard a buzzing in their ears from the shock. No one spoke. Bob and Darrell were both standing, waiting for confirmation that Strip was ok. In the Dinoco pit row, the pitties and Gray had their eyes glued on Roger.

The crew chief held his breath, waiting for something on the other end of the line. There was nothing.

It was like the entire stadium was frozen in time. All they needed was confirmation that the King was alright to break the spell. But that confirmation never came.

No one except the camera noticed when Lightning zoomed over the finish line. At least, not until the flagman saw the red to his right, and half heartedly waved the checkered material. The show must go on.

"Um, right," Bob swallowed, glancing at Darrell. "Emergency services will soon be on the scene. It's important not to speculate."

It was the weakest, most pathetic line of the his career, but he attributed it to the shock.

"McQueen has crossed the finish line," Darrell reported. "And he has absolutely no idea what happened behind him!"

"This makes him the first rookie to ever win the Piston Cup," Bob quickly added. "What a day for the history books." He himself could hear the forced enthusiasm in his voice.

Lightning was oblivious.

"I did it, Mack!" He shouted, preparing for a victory lap. "I'm the first rookie to win the Piston Cup!" He whooped and cheered, glancing ahead at the first turn of the track.

"Hey, Mack," he said after the trucker didn't say a word after turn two. "Aren't you happy for me? Don't tell me you're still upset about staying with Rusteze." He rolled his eyes at the thought of Mack sulking.

"No, kid," Mack's voice came through, and despite McQueen's jubilance, he immediately heard something... off.

"Mack, what's wrong?" He asked, slowing down and suddenly worried.

"It's the King," Mack responded. "He crashed."

"Wait, what?" McQueen braked quickly and did a hazardous, half controlled stop at the side of the track. "What do you mean he crashed?" Worry filled the young racer. "And why's it so quiet out there?"

"I... dunno..." Mack replied. "You better see for yourself."

McQueen was already fumbling with the restraints holding him in place. He scrambled out of the car and onto the track. He jerked the helmet off and stood in the middle of the track. No one was cheering. Everyone was murmuring amongst themselves, and looking at the giant flat screens. He turned to the nearest one, realization dawning on him.

That's why no one was cheering.

The image of the light blue Superbird crumpled up and smoking sent a shiver down McQueen's spine. His blood turned cold and ice settled in the pit his stomach.

"What happened?" He asked. Mack's voice crackled out of the helmet in reply.

"I dunno... It was Hicks I guess."

"But, he's ok, right?" Lightning asked. His eyes were glued to the screen as he saw an ambulance pull up the scene, lights flashing. A bunch of officials in fireproof suits went first, fire extinguishers at the ready. Lightning watched as the 'bird disappeared in a cloud of white smoke. He kept rambling. "I mean, he's been in crashes before. This... This is just like one of those pile ups earlier in the season. No one gets seriously hurt."

"I don't think so," Mack looked towards the Dinoco crew. Roger was speaking earnestly into the earpiece while Gray jerked his cap off his head and paced. Mack knew that was a bad sign. Roger finally shook his head, and one of the pitties shouted at him.

"Looks like Mrs. Weathers and the Dinoco sponsor are headed down there," Bob glanced at the VIP area where Tex and Lynda could no longer be seen.

"It doesn't look good, I'm afraid," Darrell shook his head. "But we don't know for sure yet."

"Right you are," Bob agreed, knowing this was tough on the other commentator. He knew Strip quite well, and keeping up a professional personage during the uncertainty was difficult.

"Looks like McQueen is taking it quite hard," he commented, glancing down to where the red car still stood.

"It's his first time seeing a big crash like this," Darrell agreed. "Must be quite an eye opener."

Lightning was still standing, glued to the spot by some invisible force.

"Please be alright," be whispered as the medical personnel approached the cooled down car. It wasn't on fire, that was good, right? "I don't want this day to go down like this." The side of the car was cut open and tossed aside. Mack saw Gray rake his hand through his hair in worry. Luke winced as the panel was tossed to the side.

There were so many paramedics it was hard to see what exactly happened to Strip. They checked his vital signs in the car and whether or not it was safe to move him. As the racer was lifted out of the car, it was clear that he was unconscious. The paramedics put him onto a stretcher and checked his vital signs a second time. Everyone in the stadium waited in suspense. The head paramedic finally nodded to the others. No white sheet was brought out.

"He's alive," Bob reported and Darrell sagged in relief.

"Thank you," Lightning whispered to no one in particular.

"But he's not in the clear yet," Darrell watched as Strip's helmet was removed. He couldn't tell if there was internal damage or not. "They're moving him to be treated."

"Well, there's hope at least," Bob said resolutely, trying to encourage the millions of fans he knew was listening.

Lightning watched as the ambulance rolled away. Worry twisted in his stomach as his eyes stayed glued to the screen, following the emergency vehicle for as long as he could. He was jerked sharply back into reality as he suddenly saw himself on the screen.

"Mack... Where are they taking him?" He asked, pulling his helmet back on so that the viewers couldn't see his expression.

"To the hospital, I guess," Mack said. "You better bring the car back before you go get your trophy."

"Sure," Lightning replied absentmindedly. His hands were shaking. When had that happened? He drove back to pit row slowly, still seeing the ambulance in his mind's eye. Had that really happened behind him? Why hadn't he seen it?

Mack waited for McQueen. Bob and Darrell had turned the conversation around to Lightning's victory and the audience was waiting in anticipation for the kid to get his trophy. The pit crew around the trucker started clearing up the tires, mood somber, but not really caring. Mack turned towards the Dinoco stop, planning on going to ask Gray if he was alright.

He stopped short, seeing the scene in front of him unfold.

Luke was shouting at Gray, who was trying to hold him back as Hicks pulled in next to them in the Hostile Takeover row.

"He crashed into him! Strip's unconscious and might never wake up!"

"Luke, calm down, we don't know for sure."

"I'm going to kill him!" The pittie shouted furiously, turning towards the runner-up. He was seething in rage born from fear.

"Luke, no, you can't say that!" Gray held him back, pinning his arms behind his back.

"Let me go!" Luke yelled, kicking Gray hard. The trucker held on, taking the abuse in the hopes that Luke would get it out of his system.

Mack barely noticed as Lightning pulled up next to him. The young racer scrambled out and both of them watched the scene unfold.

"Luke!" A female voice broke through the side and Luke stilled. A pretty woman pushed her way past the officials and Roger signaled them to let her through. Gray released Luke and he fell into Lucy's arms as she hugged him. He clutched onto her for dear life, her hand running through his hair.

Mack turned away. He'd talk to Gray later.

Lightning stood still, watching the scene in front of him. Strip's crew chief was in a daze, his entire posture screaming defeat. The crew looked around, some in disbelief, some in fear. All of them had been doing this for years and this final outcome was completely unexpected. They were like some sort of family, Lightning realized. The rookie turned away, suddenly embarrassed that he'd seen so much. It wasn't his business to witness their grief.

"I can't lose him," Luke mumbled into Lucy's shoulder. She glanced behind him and saw Hicks getting out and talking with his crew. He looked at the Buick annoyed, more upset at losing than the crash and resulting grief he'd just caused.

"We won't," she assured him, turning towards Gray. The trucker just shook his head, not knowing the damage.

"We won't, Luke," she whispered to her husband a second time. She waited for him to come to his senses, knowing the fight would leave as soon as the reality set in. "Roger?" She looked at the crew chief worriedly, wanting to ask if Strip would be alright. The words wouldn't come out. What if Roger said no?

"I don't know," Roger took a shaky breath. He was the crew chief here, it was his job to pull the team back together. "Let's just pack away."

"What about the 'bird?" One of the pitties asked. "Are they going to tow it back?"

"They will, eventually," Roger assured them, although he had no idea whether the Superbird was totaled. He was pretty sure it was with the side ripped off. "Just pack everything else away."

Lucy reluctantly let go of Luke, who turned back towards his gear. He still wanted to strangle Hicks for what he'd done, but he wouldn't. Not with Lucy there.

"I'll meet you at the hospital ok?" She whispered, squeezing his hand. He nodded and focused on putting the equipment away safely. Lucy turned and hurried towards the parking to catch up with Lynda and Tex.

* * *

McQueen heard his name being called but didn't register that he had to go somewhere. Ever faithful Mack herded him towards Victory Lane, the flash of the cameras bringing the young racer back to reality.

"Move over, kid's had a rough day," Mack tried to get Lightning through the crowd.

" _Mr. McQueen, what's your take on the King's crash?"_

" _How does it feel to be the first rookie to win the Piston Cup?"_

" _Do you have any statements for your young fans?"_

"Um..." Lightning tried to come up with a response, but he couldn't think of anything. He was on the top podium, glancing down at the sea of photographers. His two biggest fans broke through security, screaming his name. He tried to send them a confident smile but it came out half-hearted instead. What was wrong with him?

" _What are your plans for next season?"_

" _Are you going to approach Dinoco for the sponsorship?"_

Someone was handing him the trophy. He accepted it and looked at the metal. It was so shiny. He realized he should probably say something, maybe thank Rusteze or something?

"Thanks," he muttered, managing a small smile. It dropped as Hicks stepped onto the podium beside him. Seeing that Lightning wasn't giving them his usual attitude, the reporters switched their attention to the other racer. Completely unaffected by the crash, he gave them exactly what they wanted.

"Old man should have been out years ago," he shrugged. "Some people just can't let go when it's their time."

Lightning glared lightly at him but stayed quiet, opting instead to study his reflection on the trophy. This is what he'd been trying to achieve his entire life. He was holding it now, his dream for so many years. This shiny trophy was proof of his talent and his success. He should be happy, but he wasn't feeling anything. No emotion registered through the numbness. It was confusing, and he tried to shake himself free of it.

"It was a good race today," he finally managed to say, drawing the reporters' attention away from Hicks. "Just, you know, hope it's the start of many like it."

That satisfied the reporters and Lightning stepped down as an official told him and Hicks that they were due to speak with Darrell and Bob. Lightning headed over to Mack first who was waiting with Rusty and Dusty.

"Great job out there today, kid!" Rusty said enthusiastically. "You sure made us proud."

"Thanks," Lightning said absentmindedly, glancing at them with a little disdain. He hated those old Rusteze caps they were wearing. These guys really needed to upgrade.

"So, you're due for an interview, right?" Dusty asked. "We'll meet up afterwards and discuss next season." The thought hadn't even occurred to the Rusteze brothers that Lightning's plan was to switch over to Dinoco first chance he got.

"Sure," Lightning shrugged, handing Mack the cup. "I... gotta go."

Without another word he turned and hurried off, leaving his sponsors confused.

"You're gonna have to forgive him," Mack explained. "He took the crash pretty hard."

"Oh, right," Rusty berated himself. "You know what? Tell him we can meet tomorrow. Tonight's the time to celebrate!"

"Sure," Mack said quietly, but glanced after the kid worriedly. Quietly he said to himself, "I don't think there's gonna be a whole lot of celebrating tonight."

* * *

Over the air, the interview was a little tense, but professional enough. In the studio, the discomfort was stifling. Darrell could barely look at Hicks without his teeth clenching and Lightning seemed completely lost to the world. Bob picked up the slack and talked with Hicks for most of the interview. The Hostile Takeover driver acted no different than usual.

"You know, it's part of the race," he shrugged when Bob asked him about the rivalry he had with Strip. "Guess Weathers just lost his touch, that's all."

"What do you think, Lightning?" Darrell asked. "Should crashes like this be part of the sport?"

"I... didn't see it," Lightning admitted, looking down and tracing a circle on the floor with his foot. He'd been too preoccupied with winning. Too self-centered.

"What are you going to do now that you've won?" Bob asked. Lightning shrugged before answering. "I guess I'm gonna meet up with my sponsors and plan next season."

"So you're saying you're going to stay with Rusteze?" Darrell questioned.

"Oh... Um..." Lightning suddenly remembered Dinoco. "I'm not sure," he shrugged. "Guess it's a bit overwhelming, being a champion and all."

"Well, we can see you're tired," Darrell glanced at Bob, who nodded. Time for this interview to come a close. "Thanks for joining us, and congratulations on your victory."

Lightning managed a weak smile before hurriedly standing up and making his way out of his studio. The ringing in his ears had quieted down a little, but he needed it to stop completely. He needed his trailer, no, he needed Mack. No, he needed to find the hospital. He needed to know that the King would be alright. Then everything would be ok so that he could celebrate.

Hicks said a few more words to the commentators and followed McQueen to the exit. Everyone seemed kind of mad at him for what had happened to Strip. He didn't mean for the other racer to crash like that but he wasn't sorry. If Weathers couldn't even recover from a small bump like that anymore, it was time for him to get off the track. He should have years ago.

As they exited the studio, Hicks noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that the kid was pretty shaken. He hadn't gloated once or said anything arrogant. That got Chick thinking... Intentional or not... Maybe now was a good time to rattle the kid up a little.

He grabbed Lightning's arm to stop him and the kid turned towards him. And man, oh man, wasn't Lightning just a kid at the moment. He looked at Hicks for a moment in terror before his expression faded into cool indifference. But Hicks hadn't missed that first look.

"Lightning," he said with a mocking tone. "Word of advice."

"I don't need your advice." Lightning pulled his arm loose.

"What happened to Weathers," Hicks continued. He stepped closer, using the fact that he was a little taller than the kid to his advantage. "You get into my way again... That'll be you next time."

Lightning managed not to shrink away, but his heart suddenly pounded very loudly in his head. Hicks had just threatened him. He'd done that before. A lot actually. But Lightning only now realized how deadly Hicks was... and how seriously he took victory. If Hicks could wreck the King and walk away without having to accept an ounce of responsibility, he wouldn't think twice about destroying him. Legally, Dinoco couldn't touch him, and Hicks knew that. If a sponsor as big as DInoco couldn't make him pay, no way someone as small as Rusteze would scare him. Nothing was stopping Hicks from completely wrecking Lightning in the same way and the sudden realization terrified him.

The young rookie had always felt untouchable on the track, but now he wasn't so sure. He watched Hicks walk away in front of him, his loud neon jacket jeering at him until it's wearer turned a corner. Lightning stood alone in the corridor for a second to gain his bearings, then suddenly felt very alone. He needed to get out of here. Mack. He needed to get to Mack. No one would touch him with the big guy around.


	3. Chapter 3

The buzzing in his ears had finally passed. It was replaced by his heart pounding loudly . He headed back to the trailer and changed quickly out of his racing suit into a more casual jeans and t-shirt. He shrugged on his Rusteze jacket, not because it was cold, but because it made him feel better. Despite his distaste for the brand, the familiarity was comforting.

Lightning stepped out of the trailer and headed towards the track exit.

"Hey, kid!" Mack called out. "You want me to pull the car in for you?"

"No," Lightning muttered, a little distracted. "I'll do it when I get back."

"Where you going?"

"Just... for a walk," Lightning replied absentmindedly, hurrying forwards.

"Don't forget this!"

Lightning turned as Mack threw him his cell. The rookie pocketed it and hurried further. He headed towards the back entrance of the track and glanced at the building in the distance. The hospital wasn't far, he could walk.

It took a little bit longer than expected, but he eventually found himself by the front doors. He wasn't the only one worried about the King's progress. It seemed like every reporter in the city was milling around the entrance, trying to get inside.

Hospital security barred the way firmly and Lightning ducked to the side around the corner. Maybe there was a side entrance.

He couldn't find one and came back to the corner a little annoyed and even more desperate. He needed to get in there!

The media crowd exploded into a frenzy as the hospital's spokesperson stepped out.

"How's the King?"

"Will he survive?"

"Is there an official statement yet?"

She didn't say anything, but led the press further away before giving her statement.

"Strip Weathers is our patient," she said firmly. "His condition will not be made public until his family has been alerted of it. They will then make the choice on whether or not to release a statement. We have other patients here who are feeling intimidated by your presence. Could all of you please leave before I call..."

Lightning didn't hear who she was going to call. He ducked into the hospital as a few patients who were being discharged that day made their way out now that the reporters were gone. He moved past a lady in a wheelchair and towards the counter.

"Can I help you?" A stern looking nurse sitting there asked him.

"Um... yeah," Lightning faltered, but gathered his courage. He wasn't scared of a silly old nurse. "I'm looking for the King."

"Do you know this patient?" the nurse asked.

Lightning hesitated. Did he know the King? Well, yeah, sure he did! They'd talked before. That counted, didn't it?

"Yeah, I do. We race together."

The nurse studied him critically over her spectacles for a few seconds. Although uncomfortable, Lightning stood his ground.

"Upstairs on the third floor. To the right," she finally reported.

Lightning turned towards the elevators, forgetting to thank the nurse in his haste. Seeing a kid with crutches in his way, Lightning opted for the stairs. He took them two at a time until he reached the last few. He slowed down to catch his breath.

"To the right," he muttered to himself as he opened the door to the floor.

He hurried towards what appeared to be a waiting room, but hesitated upon reaching the doorway. The room was lit brightly enough, but a heavy feeling hung in the air. It made the atmosphere feel dark and dreary.

A nurse sat at the counter typing away on a computer, more in an attempt to look busy than anything else. The Dinoco trucker - Gray, Lightning remembered, was sitting next the Lynda Weathers. She looked like she was still taking it all in, trying not to cry as another lady sat beside her. She must be a friend. Lynda started playing with the wedding ring on her finger but stopped as it inspired more fear than comfort. She hugged herself instead. Lucy rested her hand on Lynda's shoulder.

The rest of the pit crew sat across from them on the remaining chairs, one of them holding a shock blanket. It was Luke, and the look in his eyes said more than his actions on the track. Lightning watched as his expression shifted from dull to terror as he imagined the possibility of his friend dying only a few doors away. His breathing hitched and became faster until he forced himself to relax by squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, they were dull. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

Tex and Roger stood across from each other, leaning against opposite walls. Both of them knew they weren't at fault, but the feeling of responsibility weighed heavily nonetheless. A clock was ticking above the nurse, every second dragging out the suspense.

The silence was deafening.

For the second time that day Lightning felt like he was looking into a window he had no business looking into. They were like a family and he was just an outsider. He had no right to be here. But he couldn't just leave, he _had_ to know.

Tex and Dallas sensed his presence and he took a step back as they both looked at him. They looked at each other, communicating silently before Tex approached him. He led Lightning down the hall a little so as not to disturb the others.

"Is the King going to be alright?" Lightning blurted out as they stopped. He'd never actually spoken to the sponsor before but helicopters were the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"I don't know," Tex responded, absolutely hating to admit that, but what else could he say? "All they're telling us is it's blunt force trauma." He glanced down the hallway, expecting the doctor to come out at any minute.

"Oh," Lightning bit his lip. "There's a chance, right?"

"A good chance," Tex said with a touch of forced optimism. "King won't give up without a fight."

Lightning clung onto those words. It was nothing more than he already knew, but somehow, hearing it from the sponsor was different. More assuring. More hopeful.

"Listen," Tex continued. "That was some excellent racing out there today. You interested in changing sponsors at all?"

Lightning should have said yes immediately. This was his chance, he should jump and take it. But all that he managed was an unenthusiastic,

"Yeah... Guess so."

He shrugged.

Tex saw right through him. This kid wanted the sponsorship more than anything, but he was tired and in shock. He didn't know what he was feeling or what he should be saying. The oil baron was about to assure the kid that he'd be alright when he heard a voice in the waiting room.

"Mrs. Weathers... The doctor would like to see you."

Tex turned back sharply, torn between the kid in front of him and news of his friend. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card.

"It's been a long day, son," he handed it to Lightning. "You need to get yourself some rest and clear your head. Call me when you're ready to talk."

Lightning was left standing in corridor, business card in his hand as Tex hurried back to hear the news. He looked down at the pristine letters, but his brain didn't register what they said. He suddenly felt alone in the empty hallway. He swallowed and pocketed the card, resisting the urge to go hear the news. He didn't belong there, he had to wait like everybody else. He belonged in his trailer.

He walked back the way he'd come.

* * *

While walking back from the hospital to the track, Lightning suddenly realized it took him close to forty minutes. The hospital wasn't far, but the track was huge. He berated himself for not asking Mack to pick him up and walked faster.

By the time Lightning made it back to the trailer it was dark. He ended up jogging most of the way, suddenly feeling nervous on his own.

"Mack," he called upon reaching the trailer. "I'm back!"

There was no answer. Lightning opened the trailer side door. "Mack?" He called then stepped back, confused. Where had the trucker gone?

Lightning looked around him. The glorious structure around him looked like an ominous shadow in the faded light. He suddenly felt very nervous. The hairs on the back of his neck raised as he remembered Hicks' words from earlier.

 _That'll be you next time_.

The thin thread holding Lightning's self control in place suddenly snapped. He reached for the trailer door again but stopped. Hicks could get him in there. He needed to escape. The young racer caught sight of the car parked behind the trailer. Mack hadn't pulled it in per his request. Perfect!

In Lightning's tired and frantic state of mind, it didn't occur to him that Mack had just gone to get something to eat. It didn't occur to him that driving a race car off the track was illegal, or that he should take his license or put on his helmet.

He scrambled into the car and turned the key in the ignition.

"Come on," he muttered, and the engine came to life. Half-guessing where the road was, he made his way in that general direction.

The track was huge and he wound through it, finding a side exit. He raced through, not even seeing the security guard who shouted at him. He found himself in the LA industrial area surrounded by warehouses and flimsy lighting.

His bleary thoughts turned away from Hicks and back to the race. It wasn't fair! His day wasn't supposed to end like this! He was supposed to win fair and square and everyone was supposed to be impressed and be talking about him. Instead everyone was talking about the King's crash and whether or not the racer was going to live.

Lightning gritted his teeth, suddenly angry. He went faster, not realizing that he was driving out of town and that he was 35 miles over the speed limit. His victory was ruined. His legacy would forever be stained. The day the King crashed out.

It was all Chick Hicks' fault.

What _should_ have happened was a victory lap. The King would congratulate him, he'd say _yes_ to the Dinoco offer without feeling _guilty_. No one would be crying, everyone would be cheering.

Lightning lost track of time as kept going, taking any back road he could find. They were taking him east, further and further away from the city. His thoughts clashed together in his head, screeching against each other like the Superbird against the ground when it rolled. Stupid crash, stupid Hicks, stupid sponsorship, stupid trophy, stupid hospital, stupid, stupid, stupid!

He didn't realize he was on the highway until he rushed past a car on his left.

"What the?!" He exclaimed, pulling himself out of his emotional mental rant for a second. A car horned blared behind him and he jerked to the right. Where was he?! Panicking, he went faster, looking for any road to pull off into to.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, going onto the shoulder of the highway and adjusting his speed to pass everybody on his left. If he went fast, no one would be able to identity him. If he was caught on the interstate, he'd be dead. No one would ever let him race again. He pulled off onto the first road he saw, not even reading the sign.

"Alright," he breathed, putting his foot on the gas pedal. He needed to hightail it away from the highway and find out how to get back to LA or call Mack. If a cop showed up now he'd be arrested for sure.

He was struggling to see the road ahead of him, but he figured it would just go straight. He was focusing so hard, he jolted when he heard a train whistle. Glancing to his side, he saw a huge engine coming towards him. The tracks were barely 20 feet away!

The racer hesitated for a split second. Brake or accelerate? Accelerate! He pressed the pedal to the metal and dived over the tracks. The train missed him by an inch. .

"IDIOT!" The conductor shouted in fury. Lightning didn't hear him. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

"It's ok, it's ok," he breathed, easing up on the accelerator. "I'm alive... I'm alive."

He closed his eyes for a second as the car slowed down... just as the road turned sharply to the left. Lightning's eyes jerked open as he felt the car clattering over the rough desert surface. He saw a flash of the road in his peripheral vision and pulled the car around sharply.

"Come on," he muttered, pressing down on the gas pedal again. There was a burst of speed and he heard a horrible _shreek_ in the undercarriage. He fell forward as the car just managed to plow over a jutting rock without getting stuck.

His relief when the tires hit the pavement was short lived, however, as the car slowed down. With dismay he realized that he was out of gas.

He banged his head back repeatedly against the headrest as he rolled to a complete stop. Realizing that he wasn't going anywhere, he stayed still for a few moments, allowing his heart rate to slow. He was going to have to call Mack. He fumbled in his jacket for the cell phone and turned it on.

No signal.

Lightning groaned and let his head fall back against the headrest. Great, now he'd have to go trek outside in the dark and get help. He was so tired. Maybe he could just close his eyes... Just for a few minutes.

He was fast asleep in a matter of seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

Lightning woke up slowly. He'd been sleeping deeply and peacefully, but someone was pounding on the side of the truck.

"Coming..." He muttered, figuring it was Mack. He forced his eyelids apart and frowned as the bleary image in front of him started focusing. Brown hair? Mack had red hair. And why was he so stiff?

He blinked once and the image cleared. A pair of bright brown eyes looked down at him under a dirty brown baseball cap.

"Ahh!" Lightning shouted, trying to scramble back. A hillbilly!

The racer banged his head against the car's roof and fell over onto the trophy.

"Owww," he whined as it poked him in the back.

"Well, howdy, stranger," the hillbilly greeted him. Lightning was surprised that it could talk. "Need a tow?"

"Who are you?" Lightning asked suspiciously, rubbing his head and trying to sit up.

"Tow Mater," Mater greeted enthusiastically. "What's your name?"

"Lightning McQueen," Lightning mumbled, managing to wiggle his way back into the seat.

"Here, let me get that for you," Mater offered, looking for a door handle. "Um... you don't seem to have a door, McQueen."

"That's because it's a race car," Lightning muttered, annoyed. "There is no door." What kind of idiot didn't know that? He scrambled out and squinted in the harsh glare.

"Where am I?" He muttered. All he could see was sand. The highway was nowhere in sight.

"Shoot, you're outside Radiator Springs!" Mater said enthusiastically, as if Lightning should be excited at the prospect.

"Never heard of it," the racer muttered. He blinked a few times so that his eyes could adjust to the light. Nothing but desert for miles around. Turning back to the stock car, he saw Mater starting to hitch it to the tow truck. Lightning blanched at the sight of it. No, no, no! He did not want his ride anywhere _near_ that rust bucket.

"Hey, you know what, I'm just gonna call someone," he said, reaching into his pocket for his cell. "I don't want to inconvenience you." He lifted it up. Still no signal.

"Those things don't work out here," Mater grinned. "And 'sides, I'm the only tow truck driver around here in Carburetor County."

"Carburetor... County?" Lightning asked, unable to hide the dismay in his voice.

"Yip!" Mater finished hitching up the stock car and got into the tow truck. "Come on, I'll give you a lift. Soon as we get back to town, you can use the landline."

"There's a town?" Lightning asked, dismayed. Ugh, he was in the middle of Hicksville. But seeing as his options were limited, the racer edged his way towards the filthy truck. The passenger seat looked dirty and there were a few feathers on it. Wait, _feathers?_

"You coming?" Mater asked, starting the truck. It didn't hum to life, or roar to life, it _spluttered_ to life. Lightning winced. However, he really didn't fancy walking so he bit the bullet and got into the seat. He lowered himself down carefully, wincing at the thought of his Rusteze jacket getting filthy. With his luck, he'd run into Rusty and Dusty's cousins in this town.

"Oh, joy," he muttered to himself at the thought. Mater drove on carefully with the stock car behind him.

"You're my first customer in years!" He said enthusiastically.

"I wonder why," Lightning muttered sarcastically. Mater didn't pick up on it.

"Shoot, that's cause the highway was put in," Mater explained.

"Mmmm hmmmm," Lighting wasn't listening. He was too annoyed at his predicament.

Mater kept prattling on and on about his dumb little town but Lightning tuned him out. As soon as they got there, he was going to call Mack to pick him up. Deep down, Lightning knew this mess was all his fault, but he wasn't about to admit that to anyone, least of all himself.

It took them over an hour to reach their destination. Lightning didn't notice the Radiator Springs sign but he did notice when they rolled into town. While Mack would describe the town as quaint and cute, the only word Lightning could come up with was dumpy. It was super small, and some of its buildings were falling apart. And was that a junkyard?

"That over there's mine," Mater said proudly.

"Oh," Lightning nodded. _Now_ the junkyard made sense. Lightning spotted a bed and breakfast called Cozy Cones Motel, a cafe, something to do with paint, and finally they pulled up next to a Sheriff's office. The racer was about to step out when he noticed an old Ford Model T parked in front of town hall. He idly wondered if it still worked, but wasn't planning on sticking around long enough to find out.

Completely forgetting that a sheriff wouldn't look too kindly on his stock car being pulled into town, Lightning opened the door, happy to be out of the dirty truck.

"Watch out for the-" Mater tried to warn, but it was too late. In his haste, Lightning had knocked over a flower pot next to a lamp post.

"-flowers." Mater finished with a wince.

"Aw, man!" Lightning looked in dismay as his white sneaker had potting soil all over it. "Why's this lying around here?"

He glanced up as he heard a sob. A tall man was standing there, holding a watering can. Realization dawned on the Rusteze racer.

"Oh... Hey... sorry," He tried nudging the flowers back together with his shoe. The man turned around and hurried further down the street. The fire station was right next to the Sheriff's office.

"I'll pay for them!" Lightning called out, forgetting that he didn't have a cent on him. Shaking his head the racer muttered with annoyance, "what's his problem?"

"Red just loves his flowers," Mater explained as he got out of the truck.

"Mater!" Lightning winced as he heard a door open behind him. "What's going on here?"

"Hey, Sheriff," Mater answered cheerfully. Lightning rubbed his ears. Was yelling normal in hillbilly towns? He really couldn't say. "This here is Lightning McQueen. Found him by the side of the road so I gave him a tow."

"City boy," Sheriff grunted, taking in Lightning's general appearance. "Can I see your license?"

"Sure," Lightning reached into his back pocket where he usually kept it. Sheriff watched the kid's expression as realization dawned. "Oh... looks like I forgot it in LA."

Sheriff wasn't surprised.

"You know, it's an offense to drive without one," he commented, walking around the stock car to inspect it. The kid seemed to be a racing fan, it was marvelous replica. The lawman examined the car, frowning upon closer inspection.

"This thing have lights?" he asked, tapping the stickers in front.

"No." Lightning rolled his eyes. What was it with these people? Racecars didn't need lights.

Sheriff looked at the kid in front of him in complete disbelief.

"You're saying you drove this thing from LA to here last night?"

"Yeah..." Lightning said slowly. He'd have to talk slow, these people weren't very clever.

"Son, you ain't got no license, no insurance on the road, no headlights, and no rear lights!" Sheriff was completely astounded.

"He ain't even got a door," Mater put in. Lightning rolled his eyes, his entire body posture showing how much he didn't care.

"Do you realize how many violations you've broken?!" Sheriff tried to get through to the kid in front of him.

"Look, I'm sorry," Lightning was getting really annoyed. "It was an accident, it won't happen again."

Sheriff shook his head.

"I can't let it go that easy, son," he said sternly. "We're gonna have to get you in front of the judge."

"What, wait, the judge?" Lightning asked incredulously. "Can't you just, you know, give me a fine or something."

"You got the cash?" Sheriff asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, well... back in LA," Lightning stuttered. "Give me a phone and I'll have someone bring it."

"Phone lines are out," Sheriff replied, reaching for his handcuffs but stopping upon deciding the kid wasn't worth them. "Now, you gonna come quietly?"

"What do you mean the phone lines are out? What kind of place is this?"

"I told you, we're in Radiator Springs," Mater explained slowly, as if Lightning was somehow the stupid one.

"Take him to the courtroom, Mater," Sheriff sighed. "I'm gonna get the judge."

Sheriff watched with pursed lips as Mater led the city slicker towards the court house. The row he was causing had caught the attention of Luigi and Guido across the street. They'd tell the rest so the whole town would eventually show up. This was the most interesting thing that had happened in a while.

Sheriff sighed. Shame it wouldn't last long. Doc would give the kid a fine or some jail time until the phone lines worked then everything'd go back to normal. Best to enjoy some excitement it while it lasted.

* * *

Doc shrugged on his jacket and stepped out of the clinic. He certainly didn't anticipate Sheriff knocking on his door and telling him that his services as a judge were needed. All he knew was that some kid had rolled into town with no license and an unsafe vehicle. The only possession he had was a cellphone, which of course didn't work out here without a signal.

Sheriff hadn't said anything else and left the veteran racer to get dressed. Doc made his way towards the courthouse, already feeling the small drop in temperature. Autumn was on the way. He froze when he saw what was parked in front of the Sheriff's Office.

It was a stock race car. Of everything he'd imagined, this wasn't even on the list. Doc hurried over to check for sure. Maybe it was a replica? But as he walked around it his suspicions were confirmed. Yip, it was the real thing - not a replica. What was it doing here?

It looked really roughed up. Had that stupid kid really taken a stock car cross country?

Seeing Fillmore and Sarge go into the courthouse, Doc figured Sheriff had already taken the defendant to the bench. Deciding that this was the worst possible start to any day imaginable, Doc stepped into the courtroom. Time to teach the punk a lesson.

* * *

Lightning slouched on the court bench, arms crossed. He couldn't believe it. He was stuck in Hicksville with an empty car, no money, and no way to contact outside help! He paid no heed to the locals as they stepped into the courtroom. Mater tried to tell him who they were but Lightning ignored him.

"That there is Sarge and Fillmore," Mater waved to them. "And there's Luigi and Guido."

"Hey, Mater!" An accented voice greeted the tow truck driver. "That the prisoner?"

"I am not a prisoner," Lightning snapped, glaring at whoever had just said that. He saw a man with the most colourful hair Lightning had ever seen.

"Oh, honey, you sure are," a lady next to the man shook her head at him. "Judge ain't gonna look too kindly on you."

Lightning slumped back in the bench, sulking as the rest of the town wandered in.

By the time Doc stepped into the courtroom the whole town had gathered. Fillmore and Sarge were sitting on the second bench, the hippie looking half asleep. His head lolled over onto the veteran's shoulder and Sarge shoved him aside, shuffling away in order to protect the integrity of his personal bubble.

Luigi and Guido were in the row behind them, murmuring to each other in Italian, probably about the race car outside. Flo and Ramone looked a little smug and Ramone gave Doc a wave. Red walked in next to Lizzie. Doc saw the old lady mutter something to Red who just shrugged.

"All rise," Sheriff gave the order and everyone did so. Flo shot a small smile at Ramone. It was always fun when Doc acted as judge.

Lightning didn't want stand so Mater hauled him up.

"Hey!" he protested. The hillbilly was strong!

"Yer welcome," Mater grinned.

Seated comfortably in his chair, Doc began.

"Alright what do we have today?"

He finally turned towards the guilty… and frowned. Everyone waited expectantly but Doc didn't say a word as he studied the young racer. Sheriff looked at Doc carefully and noticed that his jaw was tense. Out of everyone in Radiator Springs, the lawman knew Doc the best. He could tell when something was wrong. But the other man spoke before Sheriff could figure out what was eating at him.

"What's the charge?"

"Driving without a license, proper insurance, in vehicle unsafe for public roads," Sheriff reported.

"Ohh, he's in for it," Ramone sad quietly, but loud enough for the whole courtroom to hear. Luigi tried but failed to suppress a snicker.

"How do you plead?" Doc asked the kid.

"Don't I get a lawyer?" The hot shot fired back, arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"Who wants to be his lawyer?" Doc addressed the witnesses. There was silence in his room as expected.

"I'll do it," Mater volunteered enthusiastically.

"Alright, how does your client plead?" Doc asked, leaning back. He'd roast the punk for a bit.

"Um…. Guilty!" Mater announced.

"What?" Lightning practically squeaked. "I'm not guilty."

"Quiet," Mater mumbled. "Let me do the talking."

The kid groaned and fell back onto the bench. The rest of the town snickered, enjoying the sight.

"Stand up," Doc snapped and Lightning groaned overdramatically before doing so.

Sheriff looked at the judge expectantly. Doc was acting remarkably quiet for once. Usually he'd be roasting young punks for something as insignificant as speeding, but he hadn't even asked for the kid's name yet. Something was wrong.

Doc's resolve faltered. He knew this kid was guilty. For some unimaginable reason the hot rod had decided to race through the desert without headlights or even proof of his identity. He deserved a good scolding. But Doc couldn't do it. Maybe it was the fact that the kid clearly had an attitude. _Attitude the size of the East Coast_ a familiar voice in his head whispered. Perhaps it was the obnoxiously red jacket. _Blue was always your colour_. Whatever it was, he suddenly decided he didn't want the kid in his town.

"Sheriff," he ordered. "Take him to the highway. He can call someone from there."

Lightning sagged in relief. Finally, someone sensible!

"What?" Sheriff protested. This wasn't the outcome he was expecting.

"Yo, Doc, kid can't get off that lightly," Ramone added in.

"My baby Ramone is right!" Flo chorused. Lightning shot her an incredulous glance that luckily for him, she missed. _Baby?_ Who still talked like that?

The whole town exploded at Doc's choice.

"This is an outage!"

"He's a criminal, man!"

"This is unacceptable!"

Lightning didn't care. He was ready to get out of here and call Mack. He'd leave this weird little town and it's strange people behind and head back to civilization.

"So, how do we get out of here?" He asked the sheriff, rubbing his hands eagerly.

"Sit down." Sheriff glared at him. He reached for his handcuffs and Lightning quickly obliged.

"Order in the court!" Doc banged his gavel on the desk.

The door suddenly flew open and everyone turned around.

"Hi guys, sorry I'm late."

Lightning perked up at the voice. He turned around and saw a girl walk in. She was about his age, maybe a little bit older, and she was _gorgeous_. Blonde hair, bright eyes, and fashionably dressed. She didn't look dusty like everyone else in this town. He casually leaned his elbow over the back of the bench in a way he thought looked cool.

"Hey, beautiful. Your car break down as well?"

The girl looked towards him, unimpressed at the greeting.

"Funny. Is yours the car with the stickers?"

"Yip," Lightning shot her a lazy smile. "Lightning McQueen, at your service."

"Sally," she greeted with a tone that sounded friendly. The facade soon dropped. "I drive a Porsche. I don't break down."

She turned towards Doc with an abruptness that shocked Lightning. No one had ever turned their back so sharply on him before.

"Did I hear you right?" She asked the man. "You're just gonna let him go?"

Doc groaned internally. Sally and her strict sense of justice. Couldn't she just accept his ruling to get the kid out of town?

"Sheriff's gonna take him to the interstate where he's gonna call somebody."

"That's ridiculous. He was caught driving without a license in a race car on a major highway."

"She's right," Sheriff nodded and the rest of the room voiced their agreement.

"Then what do you suggest, Miss Sally?" Doc asked, annoyed. Lawyers. He humoured her out of flippancy but he should have known better.

"Well," Sally turned towards Lightning. "He hasn't got any money."

"I do have money," Lightning interrupted her. She ignored him, which frustrated him immensely. He was Lightning McQueen! He wasn't used to being ignored.

"And... Mater towed him him," Sally continued.

"That I did," Mater said proudly.

"I say, community service!" Sally suggested.

Sheriff immediately caught on.

"You know what, I like that," he nodded. "He can help Mater tidy up that junkyard of his."

"But Sheriff..." Mater whined. He was very proud of his scrap yard and had spent months collecting little trinkets to store there.

"No buts," Sheriff warned. "I've been telling you to tidy it up for weeks!"

"And for how long is he supposed to do that?" Doc asked, suddenly frustrated. Couldn't Sally see this hot rod needed to get out of town? He was only going to bring trouble.

"Until the phone lines start working," Sally shrugged.

"That could take weeks!" Doc protested.

"Ok, then until you fix up his car," Sally countered.

"No!" Both Doc and Lightning challenged at once.

"What? I know there's tumbleweed sticking out of it," Sally defended. "He can fill it up and go call for help once he's actually paid back the services Mater rendered."

"Say... that's not a bad idea," Sarge rubbed his chin and addressed Doc. "You can do that. Heaven knows you somehow keep Fillmore's piece of scrap from dying."

"He gives it the love it needs," the hippie responded, ready to defend his beloved van. Sarge scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Then it's settled," Sally said, pleased.

"I don't want him near my car!" Lightning protested.

"Then you're going to stay here for a month," Doc threatened, sick of the kid's attitude. Ungrateful little brat!

"Does that mean you agree?" Sally asked. "He does community service until you either fix his car or the phone lines start working?"

Doc hesitated and Sally turned to the small courtroom, seizing control amidst his uncertainty.

"All in favour?" She asked.

"Ai!" Everybody except for Lizzie and Red responded.

"What'd she say?" Lizzie whispered to Red. The firefighter just shrugged.

"Then it's settled," Sally stated a second time, clearly in her element.

"Fine," Doc muttered, slamming the gavel down. "Judgement delivered as per Sally's suggestion."

"What?" Lightning exclaimed in dismay. But… he was going to get out of here, wasn't he? Everything was moving too quickly. What had happened? Sally shot him a smirk as she strolled out of the courtroom, catching up with Flo and Ramone. She laughed with them and Lightning realized with dismay that she, too, was a local in this dusty little place.

Lightning was pulled from his dismayed pity party when Mater hauled him out of the bench and towards the door.

"This'll be fun!" He said enthusiastically. Lightning panicked.

"What about my one phone call!" He shouted. "Don't I get a phone call?"

Everyone laughed at him.

"They ain't working," Flo reminded him as Mater pulled him towards the junkyard, prattling on about how it would be nice to work with someone.

No one noticed as Doc and Sheriff stayed behind.

Doc sat back in the chair, arms crossed, fuming. Darn it, Sally! Didn't she realize that the little punk was going to bring a whole bunch of trouble into this town? Luckily he was too self-centered to recognize the veteran racer, but that didn't mean he wouldn't eventually. Doc hoped that aging fifty years had done enough to disguise who he really was.

"She's good," Sheriff commented once everyone was out of earshot.

"Too good," Doc muttered before standing up. "Come on. The sooner I fix that piece of trash outside the sooner the hot rod's out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright," Mater explained. "I'll start with the steel, you can start with the chickens. Um… you sure you want to wear them shoes?" He nodded at the ASICS Gel sneakers Lightning was wearing.

Mater's junkyard was even more terrible up close. Lighting glared in disgust at the old tires, rusty pieces of metal, and all sorts of other trinkets lying around. The only inhabitants were chickens. There were about twenty of them, scratching through the sand, looking for anything to eat. Now the feathers in the truck made sense.

"What's to stop me from just walking out of here?" He crossed his arms, looking at the shovel as if the thought of manual labour personally offended him. It did.

"We're in the middle of the desert," Sheriff explained from where he was leaning against the Mercury cruiser. "It'll be dark before you reach the highway… but you're welcome to try. I'm sure the coyotes will love your company."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Mater prodded Lightning with the shovel handle. "Little work never killed nobody."

"I'm not going to," Lightning stood his ground firmly. They couldn't make him.

"Well," Sheriff sighed. "Guess I'm gonna have to draw up a report. You're welcome to come sit in the jail instead. I'll call the authorities in LA soon as the phone lines work."

"Authorities?" Lightning winced at the thought of a violation this big on his record. Goodbye Dinoco if that ever happened.

"Yip," Sheriff nodded. "'Course, if you just help Mater with a little community service, no one ever needs to know."

Faced with this ultimatum, Lightning had no choice but to grab the shovel. Sheriff watched with no small amount of glee as the city slicker was directed towards the broken chicken coop.

Lightning McQueen, first rookie to win the Piston Cup, spent the whole morning after his victory whining, moaning, and complaining. The whole of Radiator Springs heard his disgust and outrage, not to mention his screams as he ran away from an aggressive rooster.

"Shoot, he won't hurt you," Mater grinned as he picked up the angry looking bird.

"It tried to attack me," Lightning protested, looking out from behind the shack Mater's tow truck was parked in.

"Want me to arrest him for assault, city boy?" Sheriff had taken to sitting in the cruiser, window open so as to not miss a word. Lightning glared at the officer, and wielding his shovel, went back to cleaning the coop. The rooster's beady little eyes followed him, daring Lightning to make a wrong move.

* * *

Even with the doors closed, Doc heard the kid's protests all the way from down the street. He was in the old mechanic's workshop. The man had left Radiator Springs years ago, and seeing as his workshop was right next to the garage attached to the medical clinic, Doc had taken it over. He wasn't in the least bit qualified to work on the car aside from his own experience.

Sheriff had helped him get the stock car on the lift and he was underneath, pulling tumbleweeds out from the undercarriage.

He glanced at the Hudson Hornet sitting in the garage attached to the workshop by a single door. Lightning's sudden appearance made him remember the first time he'd rolled into Thomasville, all attitude and full of spunk. Had he been as annoying to Smokey as this kid was to him?

"Aw, come on!" He heard the hot shot lament as he noticed his pristine shoes were wrecked.

No, Doc decided, turning back to the undercarriage.

"I was never that bad."

* * *

Lunchtime rolled around and Flo brought all of them sandwiches. Lightning hesitated before biting into it, expecting that it would taste dusty like everything else in this town. But he was hungry and risked it.

"This… tastes good," he commented as he finished swallowing.

"You say that like it surprises you," Sheriff responded as the chickens surrounded Mater to eat the crumbs he kept throwing them.

"I am," the kid bit back, making it clear that he hadn't expected anything other than dust to eat in the town. Too tired to keep standing, he sat down on one of the tires Mater had been stacking. "You don't even have a grocery store."

"Closed down years ago," Mater reported. "Flo and Miss Sally go and do the shopping. They bring it back and we make do."

"Then why don't you just leave?" Lightning asked. No doubt the thought hadn't even occurred to these idiots.

"Where to?" Sheriff asked, looking at Lightning expectantly. The rookie was about to answer, but stopped. Where to? He couldn't come up with an answer. Um… the city, perhaps? But what would they do there? The thought hadn't even occurred to him.

"That's what I thought," the officer got back into his cruiser, leaving the rookie speechless and uncomfortable.

* * *

"Home, sweet home." Sheriff flicked on the lights in the jail. Despite his tiredness, Lightning looked with distaste at the tiny cell that would act as his room. Mack's cab was bigger.

"Shower's over there," Sheriff nodded towards a door. Lightning picked up the clothes the officer had found for him.

"You know criminals wear orange, right?" He asked flippantly, holding up the pinstripe clothes that looked as if they'd come out of Elvis Presley's Jailhouse Rock video.

"Oh, I'm sorry we're not up on the latest fashion trends," Sheriff replied just as flippantly. "Or perhaps you don't want clean clothes."

Lightning did want indeed want a clean pair of clothes and accepted the ugly pajamas as part of his miserable fate.

Sheriff made sure the Cruiser's keys were in his pocket when he went to bed. He didn't want the kid trying to make a break for it during the night.

* * *

Despite his exhaustion, Lightning struggled to fall asleep. The pinstripe material was scratchy and uncomfortable, not to mention far too big for him. Despite the extra blankets Sheriff had provided, it was too hot for even one. The rookie tossed and turned before lying on his side and staring out of the window. Sheriff hadn't locked him in so he could at least look outside without the bars getting in the way.

The only traffic light in town was blinking slowly. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Ugh, how dumb and repetitive! Lightning turned around to face the wall instead. As much as he hated to admit it, this mess was entirely his fault. He should never have left LA. Right now he should be celebrating his historic win with Mack and his success at landing Dinoco.

 _Dinoco_.

Lightning sat up with a jolt. The King! He still didn't know whether the veteran racer was going to survive.

"Something wrong?" Sheriff's voice floated over from the other room. Lightning squinted in the dark but couldn't see a thing.

"No, it's fine," he muttered, lying back down. He turned back to face and wall and hugged the extra blanket.

 _Please be alright_ he thought, forgetting his pity party amidst his worry for the other racer. Despite his concern, Lightning's temper tantrums and hard work had exhausted him. The fatigue eventually won out and he floated off to sleep, the King and Dinoco settling in the back of his mind, far away from his dreams.

* * *

Mack figured out what had happened and it completely terrified him. The security guard relayed that he had seen the 95 car speed out and Mack lied, saying Lightning had been driving a replica of the stock car. Same as Hicks. He also said that he was gonna rail on Lightning for speeding and that it would never happen again. This pacified the guard enough so that he wouldn't mention it to anyone.

The trucker figured it would be easy enough to lie and say the stock car was in the trailer. However, he couldn't lie about a missing McQueen. He had no choice but to report to the Rusteze brothers that Lightning was missing the next day. The sponsors immediately forgot about the car and filed a missing person's report. Lightning was over 18, so the search only kicked in the next night.

The news was given to the media who ran with it. Roger saw the story and reported it to Gray and Tex. They didn't tell Lynda. She had since been allowed to sit next to a heavily sedated Strip, holding his hand to assure herself that he was alive and well. She wouldn't move until she knew the final outcome. He was still scheduled for a PET scan to check his brain for damage after the concussion.

"At least the reporters are gone," Roger muttered to Gray. The media had forgotten about Strip almost immediately amidst McQueen's disappearance.

Gray nodded grimly.

"Just hope the kid's alright," he added. "I don't know what kind of trouble he's gotten himself into."

* * *

 _Day two in torture town,_ was the first thing Lightning thought as he was woken up. Somebody was shouting outside and he heard loud music playing. He turned over and promptly fell back asleep only to be woken up by the sheriff ten minutes later.

"You've got work to do," the officer told him but Lightning just murmured that he needed five more minutes. The Sheriff left and the racer cuddled back with the blanket. Five minutes passed and he thought with satisfaction that the senile old officer must have forgotten about him.

This turned out not to be the case as a cup of ice cold water was dumped over his face.

Lighting yelled and sat up in shock. The Sheriff towered over him, an unimpressed look drawn over his features.

"What was that for?" Lightning spluttered.

"Next time it's a bucket," Sheriff warned, walking out of the cell. Lightning glared after him and went to the washroom to dry his face and change back into his clothes from the previous day.

Mater was waiting for him outside and took him to Flo's for breakfast.

"So, I'm thinking we should start with the tires today," Mater rambled. "Sheriff wants me to sort everything out piece by piece."

"Whatever," Lightning muttered, sliding into the booth. Couldn't the tow truck driver just take a hint and leave him to sulk in peace?

The owner brought them something to eat and again, Lightning was surprised by how much he enjoyed the bacon and eggs. It was the best home-cooked meal he'd had in ages. Mack wasn't much of a cook so on the road they just ate cereal. Rusty wasn't bad at cuisine but Flo had a magic touch, that was for sure.

His good mood was ruined when Mater dragged him out to work again. Sheriff was waiting for them with a steaming mug of coffee.

"You know I'm not gonna run off, right?" Lightning said flippantly.

"Oh, I know," Sheriff responded. "I'm enjoying this."

Lightning's temper tantrum had boiled down to grumpy mumbling as he helped Mater sort through the scrap heap. He had no idea how they were supposed to divide up the various pieces of trash even though Mater had patiently described the system to him. The tow truck driver had everything planned out in his mind.

"Tires over there, wires over here."

Halfway through the day Lighting was approached by the two Italians, who introduced themselves as Luigi and Guido. He fought with them about tires and Ferraris for a few minutes before they deemed him a hopeless case, much to his offense. _He_ wasn't a hopeless case, _they_ were!

Around mid-afternoon a minivan rolled through the town. Lightning hoped that they would recognize him, but he didn't get a chance to make himself known as they didn't seem interested in stopping. That seemed to upset Mater for some reason. Lightning didn't bother asking why and tossed a hub cap into the ever growing pile.

They had dinner that night at Flo's. Sally seemed rather despondent and part of Lightning wanted to go talk to her. However, remembering it was her fault that he was in this mess, he stubbornly decided against it.

That night in his jail cell, he realized he hadn't thought about the crash the whole day. Huh, maybe this town was good for that at least. A distraction. Yeah, that's all this place was good for. A stupid distraction.


	6. Chapter 6

_He was on the track again, but it was empty. There were no fans, no Bob and Darrell, and no officials. It was strange and it was eerie._

" _Hey, Mack," he asked in his headset as he entered turn two. "Why's it so quiet?"_

" _Cause it's just us," a voice responded, but it wasn't Mack. It was Hicks._

" _Wait... What do you mean just us?" Lightning asked, suddenly nervous. A neon green car pulled up on his left. He saw the driver turn towards him and shrank away. Hicks stayed next to him, not passing him like he should have._

" _Mack… What's going on?" He asked again._

" _It's just us," Chick replied with a sneer. "Us and the old man."_

 _They turned into turn three and Lightning saw a flash of blue. The Superbird was still lying there, smoking. No ambulance was near it. The racer found himself staring and somehow he saw the King inside, completely motionless. The blue helmet was twisted at an awkward angle, making Lightning shudder. That wasn't natural._

That'll be you next time.

 _In his distracted state Lightning didn't see Hicks ram into him. He just felt himself losing control and the tires leaving the road. Lightning yelled as he saw the pavement coming towards him as he flipped through the air._

 _The windshield splintered as he hit the ground._

Lightning woke with a yell and jerked up. He looked around frantically, eyes adjusting to the sun shining through the window.

Through the pounding in his ears, he heard music playing in the distance. Some sort of army thing. It was joined by another track.

"Will you turn that disrespectful junk off!" A voice thundered.

"Respect the classics, man!"

Lightning fell back against the pillow with a groan and hugged the blanket. What a nightmare! He just lay still for a while, allowing his heart rate to return to normal. He heard Sheriff snoring lightly in the next room, sleeping right through Sarge and Fillmore's morning row. Lightning wondered if the absolute terror in his dream was what the King had felt during his crash. Speaking of which, he still didn't know if the other racer was alive or not. Lightning swallowed. He didn't want to think about that.

He scrambled out of bed and got dressed. Grabbing a glass of water he hurried outside, stopping and looking down the street. Flo's didn't seem to be open yet. He drank his water and tried to just focus on the peacefulness in the town, but the dream still haunted him.

 _That'll be you next time_.

If only that had been a dream. Lightning couldn't decide what was worse. The eerie silence or the feeling of absolute dread as the tires lost touch with the pavement. He closed his eyes in an effort to clear his head but it didn't work. The crumbled Superbird was etched in his memory like a scar.

Lightning's eyes snapped open. He needed to do something. The scrapyard… that way he wouldn't be thinking about the dream. He wasn't thrilled at the idea but he wasn't exactly spoiled for choice here in Dumpinator Springs. Anything would be better than thinking about Hicks and the stupid crash. Even an angry rooster was less scary than the Hostile Takeover driver in his dream.

* * *

When Sheriff found Lightning's cell empty, he was sure the kid had made a break for it. But the cruiser was still parked outside so the punk must have taken someone else's ride. Sheriff was about to go track him down when the thought occurred to him to check the junkyard first.

He did, and couldn't mask his surprise at finding Lightning already there, pulling wires out from under a bunch of tires. The kid glared at him, silently daring the officer to say a word. Sheriff stayed quiet, mildly impressed. He went to Flo's to get himself some coffee.

Mater came around soon afterwards and took the other end of the scrapyard, closer to the rooster.

"Lightning," a voice called and the rookie turned to see Flo putting a tray down on a tire. "Brought some breakfast over for you."

Lightning looked a little stunned at her smiling face. She'd brought him breakfast?

"Thanks," he muttered, pulling the work gloves off. He tucked into the bacon and eggs gratefully and watched as the rest of the town came alive around them.

Down the street he saw the two Italians standing outside their tire store, looking up at the huge pile of tires towering above them. He'd missed that the first time he'd come into town. It was actually quite impressive. Glancing around the scrapyard he noticed with a small amount of pride that it actually looked a teeny tiny bit better. Sure, it was still a mess, but there was a method to the madness now.

He wasn't the only one who thought so as Fillmore and Sarge walked over to inspect the property. Ramone came with Flo to pick up the tray.

"Hey, man, looking good," Ramone whistled. "Soon you're gonna have the neatest yard in town."

Mater basked in the compliment while Sarge gave a low chuckle.

"Oh, Ramone," the army veteran said. "I think I'll always have the neatest yard in town."

"You sure, honey," Flo glanced down the street in the direction of his property. "Your fence has been looking mighty shabby lately."

"What?" Sarge hurried down the street and squinted, as if he could somehow see his fence from that distance.

"Yeah," Ramone agreed. "Not to mention there's some dandelions growing through it."

Sarge was about to protest when he thought back. Come to think of it… When was the last time he had painted his fence? It couldn't have been more than three years ago. Flo was right! If he kept this up, Mater's yard would soon be neater than his! That was _not_ going to happen. Not on his watch.

"Ramone!" He thundered. "I'm going to need some paint."

"Sure, what colour?" Ramone grinned slightly.

"White," Sarge demanded. "The whiter the better."

"Why do you need paint?" Fillmore asked as he and Sarge followed Ramone to his store.

"We're going to repaint the picket fence," Sarge declared. "I will not have Mater's yard outshining mine."

"But why?" Fillmore moaned. "It's just starting to look natural."

Flo smiled as she carried the tray back to the cafe. Come to think of it, her windows were looking a little dirty. If she was going to give Sarge a hard time for his fence, she needed to make sure her cafe was spic and span as well.

* * *

Sally stepped out of her office at the Cozy Cones, desperately needing a break from the papers she was working on. It was depressing trying to make ends meet. At this rate she'd have to go back to LA to be a lawyer again. Trying to shake off that dismal thought, she headed to Flo's, glancing at Mater's yard as she passed.

"Hey, Miss Sally!" Mater hollered, waving as he saw her. Sally grinned and waved back. Lightning shot her a cold glance and turned back towards the pile. She knew the racer was angry at her for his community service sentence but she didn't really care. He deserved it.

"Hey, Flo," she jogged past the gas pumps. "Cleaning day?"

The owner of the cafe was hard at work, scrubbing the outside of the windows in order to get rid of the dust and grime.

"Mmm hmm," Flo responded. "Cleaning day for just about everybody."

Sally looked across the street and saw that Flo was right. Luigi was washing the windows of Casa Della Tires while Guido painted the outside. They'd already sanded off the old paint.

"Hey, I liked that one," Fillmore whined further down the street.

"It was a dandelion," Sarge responded. "You can keep it in _your_ yard. I don't want it in mine!"

"Wow," Sally breathed as see saw Red putting down a new flowerpot where Lightning had destroyed his old one. It was bigger than before and had more flowers. The door to Ramone's Salon was open and he was sweeping it out. Sheriff was fixing the rickety old bench outside of town hall. He'd already fixed the one in front of his office.

"What happened?" Sally asked, laughing. This was incredible! The sleepy little town seemed alive all of a sudden, everybody hustling and bustling.

"No one wants Mater's yard to be the best looking," Flo explained. "At the rate those two are working at, it'll soon be spic and span! Ain't nobody gonna outshine this place!" She turned back towards the window before stopping. "Say, ain't the Cozy Cones looking a bit run down?"

"Uh, no," Sally looked at Flo as if she were crazy. "My place in the cleanest in town."

"You sure?" Flo asked in a tone that made Sally doubt herself. "You might just wanna go check. Cone 3's door looks a little shabby."

"Ok, challenge accepted," Sally laughed before heading to Ramone for some new paint. She'd been a little tired before but there was a buzz in town that renewed her determination. It was incredible, everyone was picking the place up! She'd been wanting this to happen for ages and she wasn't going to miss it for anything.

* * *

Doc was sick and tired of the stock car. It didn't help that he couldn't even listen the radio while working on it. Every now and then a 'special report' would play, telling the world to be on the lookout for Lightning McQueen.

 _I don't need to look for him_ Doc thought annoyed, finally turning the broadcast off. _You'll get him back as soon as possible, that I can promise you_.

Deciding to take a break, Doc rolled out from under the lift. The idiot kid had dented the car's oil pan, much to the veteran racer's utter irritation. That would take even longer to fix than pulling tumbleweeds out from the undercarriage.

Doc reached for the radio again but stopped. They'd probably just mention the kid again. Speaking of which, he wondered how the punk was doing. Deciding that he needed a bit of entertainment, Doc stepped out of the workshop, making sure the door was shut.

He walked down mainstreet and was surprised at how _bustling_ it was. Was today some sort of national cleaning day? The doors to Casa Della Tires was wide open. Flo's was sparkling. There were some new flowers by the bench in front of the Sheriff's office. When had all this happened?

"Look who finally decided to join us," Sheriff came towards him, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Did I miss the memo?" Doc asked as they walked towards the scrapyard together.

"No memo," Sheriff glanced down Sarge's street. The veteran was using edge trimmers rather close to the white picket fence. He was eying Fillmore's lawn where the hippie had replanted the dandelions. The hippie in question was glowering at Sarge over the fence, warning the veteran that he wouldn't tolerate any cutting on his lawn.

"Kid and Mater have been doing a real good job," Sheriff explained. "That just got everyone else working."

Doc heard excited chattering in Italian. Luigi and Guido were looking up at their tire tower, considering changing it up a little.

Upon reaching the junkyard, Doc couldn't deny that he was impressed. There was definitely an improvement. Lightning and Mater were working together to lift a tractor tire off an old slide. Where did Mater even find these things?

Doc almost didn't recognize the kid. He was still wearing the flashy red jacket, but he'd exchanged the white trainers for some of Mater's boots. The tow truck driver said something that had the kid rolling his eyes, but he was smiling slightly. Mater seemed happy and Doc realized that he had missed having company his own age. The rest of town was, if Doc had to be honest, made up of older people. Sally was only a little older than the tow truck driver, but they were so different it was hard for Mater to actually have _fun_ around her.

Lightning sat down on the tractor tire as Mater attempted to set up the old slide.

"I think it's fixable!" He sounded excited.

"Sure, Mater, if anyone can fix it, it's you," Lightning chuckled.

"Oh, no," Sheriff muttered. "That's definitely not safe."

He was about to hurry over when Ramone's voice caught their attention.

"Yo, Lightning!" He called from down the street. "Phone lines are working. You wanna call someone? Folks seem to be worried about you."

Doc realized Ramone had been listening to the radio as well.

"They are?" Lightning jumped up. He ran out of the junkyard, barreling through the fence and making a beeline for Ramone's store. Mater looked on behind him, a little despondently.

"Well," Sheriff sighed. "That's the end of that."

Doc couldn't have been more relieved, despite seeing Mater's sadness at losing the young racer. Soon the kid would call his driver and he'd be out of here. Then everything could go back to the way it was.

* * *

Lightning hadn't paid much mind to Ramone's store the first time he rolled into town. But now that he was in there it actually looked pretty darn cool. The man was a hair stylist by trade but he had quickly widened his repertoire upon moving to Radiator Springs. Anything with with colours and he was interested. He kept various amounts of paints for every conceivable purpose. Houses, cars, fences, paintings, and more. You wanted it, Ramone probably had it. If he didn't have it, he'd find it. Lightning spared a moment to glance at the shelves of neatly organized paint cans before turning his attention to Ramone.

"Phone's over there," he nodded before stepping out with a sponge, planning on cleaning the windows outside. Lightning reached for it eagerly, Mack's number at the forefront of his mind.

But he stopped.

Ramone couldn't help but notice while he cleaned the outside window as the kid reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card.

Lightning wanted to call Mack, he really did. But he was also still worried for the King. Despite the sponsor's assuring _he'll be ok_ words, Lightning hadn't actually heard the confirmation that _yes, the King will be fine_. He really needed to know. He had Tex's number, surely it wouldn't hurt to call ahead and check on the other racer's progress.

 _I'll call Mack right afterwards_ he told himself as he put the business card down on the table and dialed the number. _The lines are working now, it won't hurt to check on the King_.

The phone rang twice before Tex answered.

"Hello?"

Lightning faltered. How was he supposed to address the guy?

"Um… Mr. Dinoco," he finally greeted rather lamely. "It's Lightning."

"Lightning!" Tex sounded surprised. "Where are you at, boy? Everyone's looking for you."

"It's alright, I know," Lightning winced. Everyone was looking for him? All he could hope was that no one would guess the circumstances regarding his disappearance. "I'm fine and I'm gonna call Mack as soon as I'm done. I just wanna know… how's the King?"

Tex stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out what the blazes the kid was doing. He definitely didn't expect this call.

"The King's just fine," he reported. "Got himself a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and a sprained wrist but the Doctors reckon he'll heal up just as well as before."

"So he's ok?" Lightning wanted the short version.

"He's stable," Tex clarified. "They're still running a few more tests. There's some worry about brain damage."

Lightning sighed in relief. The King was ok. He was stable. That was a good word, he liked it. Stable and solid. It described the King perfectly.

"Thank you," Lightning said, grinning slightly.

"You're welcome," Tex was pretty confused. Had the kid really just called him to ask about Strip's progress? There was more uncertainty surrounding Lightning's case than Strip's. The kid had just disappeared off the face of the earth. "Now, tell me, boy. Where have you been the last couple of days?"

"Oh, I'm in this little town called Radi-, hello?"

The phone line beeped loudly several times and finally went dead.

"Hello?" Lightning tried again, pressing several buttons on the old phone. How did these things work anyway? There was no sound on the other end.

"Oh… looks like she's gone again," Ramone commented as he stepped back in, window clean and squ-jeed.

"It's dead?" Lightning cried out in dismay.

"Yeah, man," Ramone looked at him in pity. "Looks like they're still fixing it."

The whole town heard Lightning's lament.

"I HATE THIS PLACE!"


	7. Chapter 7

"So… you ain't leaving?" Mater asked tentatively as the two sat on the bench outside Sheriff's office. His voice held an optimistic edge to it.

"No," Lightning said miserably. "I wasted my one phone call on asking Tex how the King's doing."

"Who's the King?" Mater asked again, suddenly curious.

"He's someone I raced against," Lightning shrugged. "He got into a crash a few days ago. I just wanted to know if he's gonna be ok."

"And is he?"

"Yeah. His sponsor says he's going to be just fine."

Lightning broke out of his sulking long enough to glance around them. The sun was touching the horizon and Mater had decided they'd done enough work for today. That left them to watch the rest of the town, bustling around trying to finish the last of the cleaning.

The Rusteze racer couldn't help but notice that these guys also seemed to be some sort of family. Even Sarge and Fillmore, who could be heard squabbling all the way down the street, had some sort of bond between them. It was nice watching them. Maybe sitting with Mater gave him the privilege to see through the window that he couldn't with the Dinoco clan.

"So," Mater started slowly, breaking the silence. "Is this the same Dinoco sponsor that you want? The one with the helicopter?"

Lightning had already told Mater about how he was the first rookie to win the Piston Cup and that the Dinoco sponsorship would soon be his.

"Yeah," Lightning nodded. "It's is the _best_ sponsorship on the circuit and the guy I just talked to owns all of it."

"So… Why'd you ask him about the King then?" Mater asked. "Are you two friends?" He asked the second question almost tentatively, almost hoping Lightning and the King _weren't_ friends.

Lightning picked away at a splinter on the wood. Were he and the King friends?

"Nah," he replied. "We don't know each other that well…" He shrugged. "We just raced against each other. Don't really know why I'm worried about him."

"Was he good?"

"Are you kidding?" Lightning couldn't believe that Mater didn't know about the legend. "He's amazing! He would always qualify near the front and it was _so hard_ to pass him. He'd always find a way to come back even if you think you'd won."

"Makes sense then," Mater nodded wisely, At Lightning's confused glance he elaborated. "Why you're worried for him."

"Uh… I don't see it." Lightning looked at tow truck driver in confusion.

"Well," Mater started. "See… you're used to him. And deep down, you sorta admire him. You've been up against him so long you just can't take the thought of something happening to him."

"I still don't get it," Lightning shook his head and Mater frowned. How could he explain it to his new friend?

"How many times have I told you to pick up those cans?" A voice thundered down the street.

"This is my yard!" Fillmore's voice floated back. Mater grinned. Perfect.

"It's like this," he started explaining. "You and the King, you're like Fillmore and Sarge over there." He nodded down the street.

"We're what?" Lightning deadpanned, completely confused.

"You two competed in your fancy race cars on the track, always fighting for some shiny trophies, back and forth, back and forth," Mater droned on. "But at the end of the day you found out you've kinda grown used to each other and you don't want it to change."

Mater looked at Lightning expectantly, expecting the strange metaphor to land somehow. Lightning glanced down the street where Sarge had finally given up on Fillmore and stormed back into his house. He pondered it over. He kinda saw the similarity… in a Mater-ish sort of way.

He and the King had always been toe to toe on the track and they just about always ended up on the podium together. They had interviews with Darrell and Bob, and exchanged a few words here and there. The King had practically become part of Lightning's existence, sort of the constant figure amidst the chaos of winning. He was certainly a whole lot better than Hicks.

Him and the King like Sarge and Fillmore. It wasn't logical… But it made sense.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I see it now."

Mater grinned.

"You ain't as dumb as you look," he teased. Lightning looked at him amused.

"Yeah, I guess I'm not."

* * *

Dinner that night was at Flo's. The place looked spic and span and the town's citizens were chattering away.

"Guido and I… We're going to re-stake the tires," Luigi told Lizzie excitedly.

"Good idea," the old woman nodded. "This time you can do it straight."

"But then it won't be the leaning tower," Luigi tried to explain. Lizzie didn't get it.

Sally opted for the counter and watched as Lightning and Mater sat at a window booth. Stickers wasn't eating. In fact he was just picking at his plate, elbow resting on the table and looking despondent. The whole town had heard from Ramone about how the phone lines had crashed again before he could tell anyone where he was. Sheriff had given him a hard time for it but he hadn't risen to the bait. Sally understood that Lightning was upset but he needed to relax a little. It wasn't like anything important was happening, this was a great chance to get away from everything.

"Say…" Mater asked after clearing his plate and taking Lightning's when it was clear the racer wasn't going to eat anymore. "You never did tell me why you were up so early this morning."

"I dunno," Lightning shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, I guess."

Mater looked at him suspiciously, gears turning in his head.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asked, catching Lightning completely off guard.

"What, -no!" Lightning lied. He was a terrible liar.

"Ye did, didn't you?" Mater asked triumphantly. Lightning didn't reply but his face tinted red and that was all the confirmation the tow truck driver needed.

"It's alright, I won't tell nobody," Mater shoved Lightning's feet under the table.

"Thanks," Lightning mumbled, glancing out as the last rays fell. Everytime it was dark he could hear Hicks' voice echo in his head. He didn't like it.

"Tell you what," Mater whispered. "Seeing as you did so well today, I'll take you out tonight."

"Take me out where?" Lightning asked. Was there some sort of amusement park in the back of this place or something?

Mater glanced suspiciously around them. Sheriff was sitting across from Sarge and Doc was at the counter. He leaned forward and Lightning did the same, suddenly curious.

"Cow-tipping," Mater whispered, brown eyes dancing with excitement.

"I've never heard of it," Lightning responded.

"You're gonna love it," Mater leaned back.

"What is it?" Lightning questioned. But Mater wouldn't tell him anything else. Lightning's curiosity was piqued, and he waited eagerly for Mater to finish eating. The two of them slipped out, each grabbing a cookie for dessert, heading straight towards the tow truck.

Sally caught up with them.

"Hey boys," she called out. "Where you headed?"

"Oh, nowhere," Mater pulled the tow truck onto the road, winking at Lightning who grinned. Sally smiled slightly. She knew exactly where Mater was taking the racer. He'd done exactly the same thing to her when she'd first come into town.

"Well, when you come back from nowhere," she started. "You can drop Lightning off at the Cozy Cone."

"What?" Lightning asked, glancing at her in the dim light. "You're letting me… stay there?"

"Well, yeah," Sally shrugged, suddenly realizing she hadn't thought this through. "I mean… unless you like the jail with it's uncomfortable cot and scratchy blankets…"

"Sounds like you know from experience," Lightning commented with a teasing smile.

"What- oh, no!" Sally protested, totally caught off guard. "I just… you know…"

Lightning chuckled.

"I'd love that Sally, thanks," He cut off her rambling. "It'll be much nicer than the jail."

"Alright, take Cone 1. Night!" Sally turned around quickly so that the boys wouldn't see her face flaming. She'd just noticed… Lightning was kind of cute. She hurried back to Flo's but the thought wouldn't leave her alone. Sure, he'd been good looking when she'd first seen him, but his cocky attitude and incessant sulking was anything but attractive. Seeing him out there with Mater, relaxed and easy… Well, he'd been cute!

Luckily, Sally was a lawyer and managed to hide her feelings quite well as she stepped into Flo's. If she hadn't, everyone would have seen _right_ through her.

* * *

The next day was unusually hot for the season. Mater announced after only an hour of work that they should just take the day off and go to Flo's. Sheriff was already there and didn't say a word as Lightning stopped working. They'd seen to have forgotten about his community service and treated him as a guest instead.

"So, you're the first rookie to ever win the Piston Cup?" Flo addressed Lightning as she brought the two boys glasses of lemonade.

"Oh… yeah," Lightning leaned back, unable to hide his smugness. "Wasn't that hard."

"Mhh hmmm," Flo didn't believe him but didn't press the matter.

"I ain't never seen a Piston Cup before," Mater downed half of the glass in one shot. "Is it shiny?"

"Very shiny," Lightning was all too eager to brag about his prize. "And it's big. This tall." He held up his hand to demonstrate.

"Shoot, really?" Mater didn't take into account that Lightning could be over exaggerating. "Sure wish I could see it."

"I actually have it with me!" Lightning suddenly remembered Mack had just put the trophy in the stock car. "Wait here." He left Mater at the booth as he hurried out to Doc's garage. He hadn't actually had a proper chance to admire his prize and was looking forward to showing it off to Mater.

He reached the workshop next to Doc's garage and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Doc," he asked, poking his head in the workshop door. He'd of course seen the no trespassing sign but didn't pay much heed to it. He didn't care about the old man's property, he just wanted to get his trophy.

Lightning walked in when there was no reply and allowed his eyes to adjust a bit to the dim light.

The workshop looked pretty much like all the others he'd seen, except maybe a little bit more dusty and dreary. He approached the stock car and reached into the window. The Piston Cup was just in his reach... Wait, was that a Hudson Hornet?

Lightning spotted a flash of blue through a side door that immediately caught his attention. Fishing his trophy out of the cabin, he stepped around the stock car.

"Woah," he breathed, pushing the door open a little wider. It was a Hudson Hornet! A real life, genuine Hudson Hornet! Dark blue and in amazing condition. Lightning touched the hood gently, walking around to inspect it further.

He glanced down as he heard a crunch and saw a piece of wrinkled newspaper under his shoe.

"You really gotta clean this place up, Doc," he grinned to himself. For such a stern looking guy this garage sure was a mess. Lightning glanced at the cluttered work space in the dim light. Books, pens, pieces of paper, boxes, Piston Cups… He did a double take. A Piston Cup?

Completely forgetting about his own, Lighting reached forward and pushed a stack of papers away. It was! A genuine Piston Cup. His jaw dropped. No. Way. He pulled it forward, brushing the dust away with his thumb. Paul Hudson. 1951. It couldn't be. It had to be a replica. Suddenly remembering his own, Lightning put them next to each other. They were the same height, same size and looked roughly the same.

 _Lightning McQueen. 2006. Paul Hudson. 1951_.

The wheels turned in Lightning's head as he looked around him, suddenly seeing the garage in a new light. He was in the home of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet! Which meant… he turned to car. This was it. This was the legendary Hudson Hornet itself. Lightning felt like he was on sacred ground. Maybe he should take his shoes off and kneel or something.

"Wait," he thought aloud. "Paul Hudson won three Piston Cups… Where are the other two?" He started looking eagerly, pushing through the papers and books. There! That was the 1952 one! Now what about… His eyes scanned the shelves. There is was. The 1953 one. Lightning was giddy with excitement all of a sudden. He couldn't believe it! Paul Hudson, right here in Radiator Springs! He'd changed so much from his pictures, so much older, so grumpy, so…

"Don't you know how to read?"

Lightning almost jumped out of skin and jerked around. There was the man himself, jaw clenching, standing by the garage door.

"I came in for mine," he gestured at the new cup next to Doc's.

"You could have just asked," Doc grit out. This was it. The stupid kid had figured it out, by snooping nonetheless.

"You're the Fabulous Hudson Hornet!" Lightning exploded. "This is amazing! How did I not see it before?"

"Because you're too self-centered, that's why," Doc ground out. Suddenly panicky, he swiped the kid's cup off the table and shoved it against his chest.

"Is this the same Hudson Hornet you won all those races with?" Lightning turned towards it. Doc grabbed his arm and hauled him out.

"Don't touch it," he growled. "I saw what you did to yours, can't imagine what you'll do to mine."

Lightning was far too excited to stop.

"You still hold the record for most wins in a single season, you know that right! Wow, wait until I tell everyone!"

"No," Doc pulled him through the workshop towards the door. "Not one of them will believe you."

"Wait, they don't know?" Lightning looked at the older man incredulously as he was pushed back into the sunlight. "You have three trophies, just look at them!" He only had one and the whole town already knew. If he had three he'd announce it to the world!

"You look," Doc growled. "All I see is a bunch of empty cups."

Leaving the kid standing stunned in the desert, Doc slammed the door and locked it. Still feeling exposed in the workshop he went back into the garage and closed that one as well. His heart pounded loudly in his ears and he sank slowly to the floor, back pressed against the door.

In front of him, the Hudson Hornet stood, his constant friend and companion for all these years. Those cups, that past… it had been their secret, and theirs alone.

"I'm sorry," Doc breathed, suddenly feeling guilty and annoyed at himself. He'd slid into a sense of comfort before the kid had come. He'd stopped locking the door years ago, knowing everyone respected his no trespassing rule. The Hudson Hornet still stood there as if contemplating whether or not she should forgive him.

Doc stayed on the ground for a few more minutes until his breathing evened out and he could think logically about what Lightning would do.

"It's ok," he finally said, gathering his courage and standing up. "No one will believe him. They'll just laugh it off if he tries to tell them."

Patting the Hudson Hornet affectionately, he stepped back into the house. He needed something to drink.

* * *

Mater was still ogling the cup, going on and on about it's many practical uses. Lightning was leaning with his elbow against the table, the tow truck driver's comments and compliments rolling off him. Everyone in the cafe had come to inspect the trophy and given their congratulations but Lightning wasn't basking in them.

The Fabulous Hudson Hornet. No one had seen him in years and he had been here! Right in the middle of the desert. Lightning didn't understand. That man was a walking legend, he'd come out of nowhere, stepped onto the circuit and had completely blown everyone away! He'd had the charisma of a movie star while still maintaining respect similar to that of the King.

What had happened?

Lightning bit his lip as he thought back. Hadn't there been a crash or something? But that shouldn't have made a difference to someone like Paul Hudson… Or Doc as he was now called. Famous drivers bounced right back from crashes all the time, even bad ones. Heck, even the King was going to walk away from his relatively unharmed. Why had Doc just dropped off the radar? And why didn't anybody in the town know about it?

Lightning suddenly glanced at the Sheriff. He was sitting in a corner booth, drinking lemonade and reading an outdated newspaper. Did he know? Lightning decided to test it.

"Hey, Mater," he said casually, loud enough for everyone in the cafe to hear. Practically the whole town was gathered except for Sally and Doc. Despite the warm day Flo's cafe was cool.

"What would you do…" Lightning spoke hesitatingly. "If I told you… Doc had three of these?" He nodded towards the cup.

There was silence before everyone burst out laughing.

"Silly boy," Lizzie chuckled. "Doc ain't got nothing shiny 'cept that car of his."

"That's funny right there," Mater howled, thumping his fist on the table.

 _If only you knew_ , Lightning thought to himself, annoyed at being laughed at. If only these people knew. He glanced at Sheriff who was studying him but didn't really react in any way. In fact, Lightning felt like the older man was going to check him for head stroke anytime now.

He glanced outside instead, feeling like sulking a little bit but he wasn't in the mood for being jeered at by the others. His mind was taken off his pity party as a beautiful blue Porsche pulled up by the gas pumps. It must be Sally's. She wasn't kidding, it didn't look like that car had ever broken down. In fact, it looked amazing! Sleek, shiny, and almost the same tone of blue as Dinoco.

Lightning was so fascinated by the Porsche he didn't notice when Sally came in behind him.

"Hey, Stickers." He turned to find her standing next to him. "Wanna come for a drive?"

"Stickers… I like that," Sarge nodded his approval.

"Um… sure," Lightning got up. Why not?

"Oh, a drive, Sally?" Flo asked, causing the whole room to suddenly pay attention. "Where are you taking him?"

"The waterfalls?" Sheriff asked, also suddenly interested.

"They're very romantic," Luigi agreed.

"No, guys, no," Sally felt herself blushing again. "Just, you know, a drive. You coming?" She hurried towards the door, casting a glance back at Lightning.

Mater shot Lightning a cheeky grin and leaned back. He'd been teasing his friend about Sally since they'd gone cow tipping last night.

"Have fun," he drawled.

"I will," Lightning shot back, head held high as he marched out.

"Go, man!" Fillmore called out. "Go wherever the love takes you!"

Sheriff watched with no small amount of worry as Lightning got into the passenger seat of the Porsche. Sally was probably going to take him towards the Wheel Well.

"Don't worry," Ramone noticed his concern. "Sally's a clever girl, she'll be just fine."

"I know, I know," Sheriff muttered, turning the page on the paper. "Still…. Can't help thinking we should send a chaperone."

"Hey, if you wanna go, that's cool," Ramone shrugged. "But I don't wanna go out in that heat."

Sheriff winced. He still had time to get the cruiser and go after them. But he did not want to sit in there while the sun baked him like he was a cake in the oven. Ramone was right. Sally was a responsible girl. She and Lightning would be just fine.


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright," Doc sighed, looking with distaste at the stock car. "Almost done with you then you and your driver can clear out of here."

The annoying red car looked at him smugly, almost exactly like its owner. It set Doc's teeth on edge. This piece of garbage didn't even deserve to be in the sight of the Hudson Hornet. He got underneath it, checking for the third time for any sort of damage. As much as he didn't like the kid he didn't want him to crash and burn out at the side of the road.

He saw the Hudson Hornet in his peripheral vision. He knew it was just his imagination, but she seemed sorta angry at him… He'd been spending a lot of time on the stock car lately. Come to think of it, he hadn't gone for a drive in a long time. Goodness knows he needed one after the eventful morning.

"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled. "Soon as I'm done with this piece of trash, sooner the kid's outta here."

The Hudson Hornet wasn't appeased.

Doc stopped working and turned to the car. She was waiting there for him, ready to go wherever he wanted to. He started thinking. It was so hot that the whole town was at Flo's… Sally had taken the punk to the Wheel Well… Now would be a perfect time for a lap around the butte. Maybe even two.

His mind made up, Doc slid out from under the stock car. Time to spend time with a machine that had actual character.

He opened the garage door and almost swore that he could see the Hudson Hornet smiling. This was long overdue.

* * *

Lightning came back from his drive with Sally feeling happier than he had in ages. She was right. It just felt GOOD to get out of town for a while. His head seemed clear but Sally's story still gnawed at the back of his brain. What was going to happen with this strange little town?

He was about to thank Sally when a whole bunch of cows stampeded into town. Chaos broke loose as everyone filed out of Flo's to try and herd up the beasts. It was a shame it had happened right after the cleaning day.

Sarge tried to keep them off his lawn and away from his fence. Red was doing what he could to protect his flowers. Ramone banged two empty paint cans together, scaring the beasts away from Flo's and his paint shop.

"Oh, them cows again," Lizzie chuckled, making her way to her little souvenir shop. She had a rocking chair on the porch that she liked to sit on and watch any sort of excitement.

"No! NO!" Luigi protested as one of the bovines wandered into Casa Della tires. Guido tried shoving it out, shouting furiously in Italian.

"Oh, no, not again," Sally sighed, making sure her Porsche was tucked far away from the chaos.

"Mater, round these things up!" Sheriff yelled, blaring the cruiser horn to scare a cow away.

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Mater responded, shaking a bucket of nails to lure the animals towards him.

"Don't use that, they'll think it's grain!" Sheriff thundered.

Lightning laughed, finding the chaos amusing. Even Sally was chuckling. She finally went forward to go help Luigi and Guido, Lightning planning to do the same. However he noticed a stray heading further down the road and jogged after it instead. The cow looked pretty small and skinny, he was sure it wouldn't give him a hard time.

"Come here, little cow," Lightning called. "Let's get you back to the… others."

Lightning trailed off and completely forget about the wayward animal.

"Wow."

He couldn't believe he hadn't seen this before. No less than half a mile away from the town was the most spectacular landmark he'd even seen. It looked like something out of Monument Valley. He remembered Sheriff commenting on something called Willys Butte, but he had no idea it was this big. The Rusteze racer just stood for a minute, taking a deep breath as he let his eyes scan the horizon. He felt so small in the vastness but he couldn't look away. It was just too breathtaking.

Lightning was about to turn around when he heard an engine start underneath him. It was… no way. It was the Hudson Hornet. Lightning immediatlely ducked and shifted onto his stomach. He crawled forward army style and peeked over the incline. It was Doc! In the Hudson Hornet! Was he going to drive around Willys Butte? It looked like there was some sort of track there.

"Come on, Doc," Lighting whispered. "Drive."

He crawled forward a little more, hoping that he'd get to see the legend go around at least once.

* * *

Doc looked down the track and took a deep breath. He could see his path clearly in front of him, dark aviators making the glare on the sand non existent. He waited for his head to clear. No thoughts rushed through it, no words distracted him. It was blank.

He started the engine. It wasn't a Ferrari, but it was powerful enough. He let it idle for a bit before releasing the clutch. The Hudson Hornet sailed down the track, leaving a cloud of dust behind it. Doc concentrated on the turn ahead of him. He had planned on taking it easy and going slow but when he turned the wheel those plans were thrown to the wind. He went full out, feeling the car tilt to the side as it sailed to the left. The Hudson Hornet kept steady, all the way up until turn two. He beamed as he reached the straight, sending dust sailing out behind him as he turned.

There it was, turn three. Doc went faster, feeling the excitement build up inside of him. The desert sped past him, showing him exactly how fast he was going. He got ready, any nerves or hesitations from earlier completely gone. At exactly the perfect moment, he swung the car to the left, keeping the tires turned right as he drifted across the sand. He was completely in control. The veteran racer couldn't help but grin at the sensation of absolutely joy welling up inside of him. This was racing, this was skill. This was flying in the purest form.

He rocketed back to the finish line and crossed it, only slowing down once he was finished. Man, that felt good! He full out beamed, enjoying the feeling of adrenaline rushing through him. It was amazing.

Doc's mode was broken when he saw a flash of red running towards him.

"That was SO COOL!" Lightning couldn't retain himself anymore and ran down towards the car. Furiously, Doc jerked the Hudson Hornet sharply to the left and floored it, leaving Lightning choking in a cloud of dust.

The veteran racer berated himself all the way back to the garage. Of course the kid had seen him! The one day he took the car out to the butte, the one time he thought he was safe, and the arrogant little punk had showed up there. He parked the car in the shade of the garage and slammed the door as he got out. He jerked off the aviators and threw them on the desk.

He was humiliated.

What he'd done was spectacular, but it wasn't for the kid to see. That was supposed to be a run down memory lane for him alone! Curse the kid for seeing him.

He pulled the garage door closed, not wanting anyone else to come it and see the trophies.

Apparently, Lightning couldn't take the hint. He burst in through the side door a few minutes later.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Doc snapped.

"That was amazing!" Lightning exclaimed. He'd run here all the way from the Butte and was still trying to catch his breath.

"Glad you think so," Doc ground out, reaching for the kid's arm again. "Now show's over. Get lost!"

"What, no!" Lightning ducked out of Doc's grip. "I want to know everything! How did you take that turn?"

"It's called drifting," Doc replied sarcastically. "I doubt you've ever heard of it."

"You gotta show me," Lightning put the Hudson Hornet between then.

"No," Doc ground out. "You don't need it. Now get out before I throw you out."

Lightning didn't back off.

"Come on, Doc, don't you get it? You're a legend, a hero! The Fabulous Hudson Hornet."

"I used to be." The old title caused even more memories to resurface. _You can call me the Fabulous Hudson Hornet… How about I just call you Hud._ He almost flinched upon remembering the familiar voice.

"You should come back," Lightning rambled excitedly. "The King would love to meet you. Everyone will be so excited."

"You're not listening to me," Doc slammed his hand down on the table, finally getting the kid to shut up and stand still. "I'm never going back." His tone was laced with a venom Lightning had never heard before.

"Why?" He demanded. "You were amazing! Don't tell me you just quit after the cr-"

"You think I quit?"

Lightning snapped silent. There was an utter disbelief in Doc's tone that made him realize he'd missed something important. He stayed quiet as the man turned towards the wall and flicked on a switch. The single bulb lit up the desk and the wall behind it. Lightning saw what he had missed earlier in the morning. Doc's crash.

It was bad.

Even in the faded newspaper clipping Lightning saw the Hudson Hornet, crumpled up, smoking. His mind flashed back to the Superbird except it felt so different. The Superbird had felt so distant. He'd only seen it on a screen. This felt personal. He glanced at the Hudson Hornet beside him, so shiny and sleek. Was it really the same car?

"I was in hospital for months," Doc's monotone voice cut through the silence. "I missed most of the season."

Lighting glanced at him but Doc's gaze was far away. The blue eyes were dull, almost as if they'd seen the memory so many times they weren't affected by it.

"When I finally got out I was ready to try again. Crash wasn't going to stop me."

Smokey had worked months on the Hudson Hornet, trying to present him with something that held hope in it. His crew chief had worked a miracle. _It ain't much, Hud. No, but it's something_. He'd put in the rest of the work himself.

"What happened?" Lightning's voice drew him out of his reverie. Doc glanced at him. Bright blue eyes, open expression. The kid was so full of hope, so full of life. Nothing could hold him back.

"They wouldn't let me back in," his voice dropped a little before regaining its strength. "Sport had moved on. They told me to move over and make way for the next rookie in line."

Lightning watched, coming to terms with what happened. He glanced at the veteran racer. How could anyone tell him no? He was amazing. What idiot had told him he couldn't race anymore?

Doc turned off the light with a resounding flick, deciding the kid had seen enough. Now he knew why he couldn't go back. Now he'd leave him in peace.

"Look…" Lightning shuffled forward, trailing the edge of the desk in a bit of nervousness. "Doc, I'm really sorry…"

He winced as the other man shot him a 'sorry doesn't even begin to cut it' look, but he kept going on.

"But that's no reason why you can't come back now. Not everyone on the track's like that."

"I turned my back on the world, just like they turned their back on me," Doc responded. "If you're smart, you'll get out while you still can."

"I'm not going to get out," Lightning bit back. "If I crash, fine. I'll bounce back from it like some of the others."

"What, like Weathers?" Doc turned round sharply. "He's lucky it was his last race."

"But he's fine!" Lightning protested. Doc rolled his eyes. Kid didn't get it. No one walked away from a crash like that 'fine'. There would be serious repercussions. "He's going to come back. Why can't you?"

"I've told you, no," Doc put as much sternness into his voice as he could muster. Quietly he muttered, "Besides… the town needs me."

"Needs you? They don't even know who you are!" Lightning was getting fed up. Was this guy really just gonna hide who he was? "You're practically lying to them!"

"I am not lying to them!" Doc spun around to face the kid. Unintimidated, Lighting stepped forward.

"You are by omission!"

The accusation set Doc's teeth on edge.

"Don't pretend that you care about them," he growled. "You've done nothing but complain since you've been here! You think they're all beneath you because the only thing you care about is yourself!"

"I do care!" Lightning shouted, indignation welling up inside of him. "I used my one call to check on the King's progress!"

"The only reason you care about _him_ is because that crash is going to put a stain on your legacy." Doc's words cut deep and Lightning knew it was because they were true. "No one's gonna remember your cup, kid. They'll just remember the day the King crashed out." There was a horrible bitterness in his voice. "Bad news always sells quicker." He glanced at the headline which could still be faintly see in the dim light.

"Yeah well, at least my friends will remember me for who I was," Lightning stepped back, drawing himself up to his full height.

"What friends?" Doc scoffed. It was a low blow that would have hit Lightning hard a few days ago. But he didn't back down.

"Mater. Mater's my friend."

With that final resounding verbal attack, Lightning turned on his heels and stormed out of the garage, leaving the door open.

Doc was left standing in the remnants of his past, seething in anger but wallowing in despair.

* * *

Lightning stormed out of the garage confused and frustrated. The conversation turned itself over and over again in his head until he finally found what exactly had bothered him about it. Doc's accusation that he didn't care.

The Rusteze racer shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down as his wrecked sneakers kicked up dust underneath him.

He wanted to deny it but he couldn't. Part of him knew Doc was right. The main reason he was so upset at the King's crash was because it was going to put a stain on his legacy. The day Lightning McQueen won the Piston Cup would always be remembered as the day the King crashed out.

 _But it's more than that_ Lightning thought. He hadn't just been upset for himself. He did care about other people! He just had to prove Doc wrong. How was he going to do that?

He stopped upon reaching a turned over flower pot. He glanced up and saw that the cows were gathered around the gas pumps at Flo's. Mater had finally rounded them up together.

He vaguely remembered his first day in Radiator Springs when he'd kicked over the firefighter's flowers. The red headed man really cared about them. Well, Lightning decided, so would he. He knelt down and picked the pot up, trying to prop the dirt around the delicate plant.

When Red found him, his hands were covered in potting soil and there was dust all over the flowers. Lightning shot the man a sheepish grin but Red just smiled. He watered the plant, washing the dust off it. The kid had tried and that's what counted. The soil was packed a little bit too tightly and there was a rock in there but Red decided not to point that out. It was worth it as Lightning beamed, thinking he'd done a good job.

* * *

That night it was dinner at Flo's. Despite the chaos Mater's stampede had caused, everyone was still optimistic and ready to fix the small amount of damage that had been caused.

Sally had opted to sit next to Lightning that night and Flo shot Ramone a sneaky smile. Sally was falling for young racer and she didn't even realize it.

By seven, Sheriff noticed Doc hadn't shown up. This was quite unusual for him so the officer slipped out amidst the chatter, wondering what was wrong with his friend.

The porch door was open so Sheriff knocked on the frame.

"It's open, Sheriff," Doc's voice floated in from inside. Sheriff found the other man sitting by the kitchen table looking over a bunch of medical reports. They looked old and pretty worn. Doc folded them up and slipped them back into a folder when he saw the other man. Sheriff figured they were personal so didn't ask.

"You alright, Doc?" Sheriff jumped straight to the point. "You've been awfully withdrawn lately."

"I will be," Doc replied, pulling off his glasses and laying them on the file. "Soon as that car's fixed up the kid will be out of here."

"He's really not so bad you know," Sheriff reasonsed. "Sally's taken quite a liking to him."

Doc's jaw clenched again. He wasn't happy with the notion.

"Has she now?" His voice was clipped.

"Yes, she has," Sheriff bristled. "I know he's a city slicker with an attitude but he's been doing better last couple of days. Maybe if you weren't so unsocial you'd actually have noticed."

"I've noticed," Doc muttered. If only Sheriff had noticed how snoopy the kid had become.

"We were all like that once you know," Sheriff reasoned. Doc almost laughed.

 _Oh, you have no idea_ he thought to himself. He could have given Lightning a run for his money in the attitude department when he was that age.

"Come out and join us," Sheriff tried. "I know he's annoying you but it's not gonna do you any good to just sit here by yourself."

"Thanks, Sheriff, but I'm calling it a night," Doc stood up. "Maybe tomorrow."

Sheriff knew this was his cue to leave. He did, irritation building up inside of him. What was wrong with Doc? Ever since the kid had rolled into town the man had been acting strange. Sheriff wanted to know why.

That night Lightning couldn't help but smile as he thought back on the good parts of the day. His confrontation with Doc had been frustrating but his drive with Sally and the aftermath was pleasant. Lying there in his pinstripe pajamas in the comfy Cozy Cone bed, he was starting to get a feel of what it must be like to be part of a team. He wasn't sure he'd ever consider this rag tag group of country folk anything other than acquaintances, but for once he started to get a glimpse of what it must be like to be part of Team Dinoco.

The thought that he was inside the house instead of staring in through a window left a warm, fuzzy feeling inside of him. He liked it.


	9. Chapter 9

The following day started out like all the others. Lightning estimated that they'd only tidied up about a quarter of Mater's scrapyard but it didn't look like he'd have a chance to do the rest. The rest of the town had decided that it was their turn to have Lightning help out.

Lizzie snagged him first, pulling Lightning into her little souvenir store and having him dust all the places she couldn't reach. She seemed most happy for the company, and while Lightning was a little weirded out, Sally assured him the old lady was harmless. Sarge got him next, sending him over to Fillmore's property to clean up a little. The hippie caught him, but immediately knew Sarge had been the one to set him up. Lightning left the two arguing over the white picket fence, grinning ever so slightly.

He was on his way back to the junkyard when Guido ran up to him, signalling him to come to Casa Della tires. Luigi was there with a stepladder.

"Ah, McQueen," he greeted. "We've decided. Instead of redoing the Leaning Tower of Tires, we're simply going to clean it. All of this dust!"

Guido made face of disgust.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?" Lightning asked, figuring this wouldn't be too hard.

"Hold this ladder," Luigi set up the step ladder right next to the tires. "Guido will go up. I will bring the water and you pass it to him."

"Are you sure this is safe?" Lightning asked, glancing up the tower. It wasn't very high, but the step ladder only reached about halfway. Guido also wasn't exactly the tallest.

"Si, si," Luigi waved off his concern. "Now hold the ladder."

Lightning had never had to hold a ladder before, and kind of just gripped onto it as Guido scrambled up. The Italian scrambled up all the way to the top step and reached down with his hand. Luigi handed Lightning a bucket and a cloth which the racer raised precariously above his head. Guido grabbed onto it and quickly starting wiping most of the dust off the tires.

Sheriff watched from across the street.

"Are they really going to wash that thing?" He asked Ramone incredulously.

"Looks like it," Ramone shrugged. "They should just ask Red… It'll go way faster."

"I wonder if everything still works," Sheriff commented. "We haven't had a proper fire drill in months."

Ramone's mouth twitched up into a smile.

"Hey… That gives me an idea," he smirked. Sheriff glanced at him suspiciously.

"What are you planning?" He asked the other man.

"Nothing man, nothing," Ramone defended. "I just gotta go find Red quickly."

He hurried away and Sheriff stayed where he was. If Ramone was thinking what Sheriff thought he was thinking… well, the officer didn't want to miss a moment of it.

It was another warm day and Lightning jerked off his Rusteze jacket and tossed it across some tires stacked up against the store. He was wearing one of Mater's t-shirts after Flo had announced that his was filthy and needed to be washed. The shirt used to say something about fishing, but the text had long since faded and now it was just a dull beige colour.

"Hey, Guido… You sure you don't want me to get that for you?" Lighting asked as Guido stood on his tippy toes on the top step, trying to reach the top tires. Guido shook his head adamantly, determined to finish the job by himself.

Lighting sighed and grabbed the empty bucket the shorter man passed him, handing it back to Luigi who gave him a full one. Luigi was about the same height as him but Guido was just a bit shorter.

Luigi watched impatiently as Guido stretched up as high as he could, balancing precariously.

"Higher, Guido!" He finally called up.

Guido glared down at him and said something in Italian that Lightning guessed meant 'you wanna come up here and try'.

"You're missing all the important spots!" Luigi shot back. Guido released a flurry of abuse and Lightning started realizing that Italian was _not_ a quiet language. Luigi responded back and Lightning stepped to the side to give them room to talk.

None of them noticed Red pull the fire truck out of the station or Sarge and Fillmore hurrying over.

Luigi pushed past Lightning and stepped onto bottom step on the ladder, hands moving furiously as he tried to explain what spots Guido had missed. Guido dropped the wet cloth onto Luigi's greased hair. Furiously, Luigi went up by two more steps and Lighting grabbed hold of the ladder as it wobbled.

Flo and Sally heard the commotion and hurried forwards with Mater. Red made sure there was enough water in the tank. They hadn't tested it in months.

"Guys, be careful," Lightning warned as Guido kept chattering, hands waving around animatedly.

Red prepared the hose and nodded to Ramone, ready for his word.

"Oh… this'll be good," Lizzie muttered to herself, rocking excitedly in her chair.

Luigi was almost on the top step now, just about eye to eye with Guido.

"Yo, fellas!" Ramone called out. "Looks like you need a bit of a hand there! Red, hit it!"

Red grinned and opened the valve on half pressure, releasing the water from the hose. Lightning, Luigi and Guido both watched as a spray of ice cold water was aimed straight at the tower. Seeing Guido drop the bucket, Lightning bailed, leaping to the side in an impressive feat of self-preservation.

Guido leapt for his life as the first spray of water hit the tower ricocheted all over him. The height from the 5-foot-ladder didn't hurt him, but as he jumped the ladder toppled over. Luigi dived to the side as the step ladder clattered next to Guido.

Both Italians shouted in outrage as Red moved the hose down the pile, water leaping out from the little gaps and onto them.

Lightning chuckled as the two stood up, soaking wet. It didn't last song as Sally spotted him.

"Hey, Red!" She called out, pointing at the Rusteze racer. "You missed a spot!"

"NO!" Lightning shouted, scrambling up and trying to make a break for it. His efforts were rewarded with a stream of water right in his back. Red was grinning, looking happier than anyone had seen him years.

"Don't worry, McQueen!" Mater hollered, running towards him. "I'll save ye!"

"Mater, no!" Lightning protested but it was too late. Red's aim was true and pretty soon Mater was lying right beside him, soaked to the bone.

"Every soldier for himself!" Sarge called and Lightning chuckled.

Guido stood up, shivering. Luigi followed suite and shook his fist, bangs sticking to his forehead and falling over his eyes.

Red turned the hose away from the group and back to the tower, hosing it down carefully before turning off the valve, satisfied.

Luigi stopped his shouting as he looked at the tower. It was dripping wet and squeaky clean. And very, very shiny.

"Guido, look!" He clutched the other man's arm. "It hasn't looked like this since we put it up!"

Guido nodded, pushing his own hair out of his eyes.

"It has been restored to its glory!" Luigi threw his arms up ecstatically.

"You're welcome!" Ramone called but was ignored. Lightning scrambled up and pulled Mater out of the puddle.

"That was kinda fun," Mater grinned, looking down at the water dripping off of him.

"Better than the heat," Lightning agreed. The sun was still beating down on them but he felt refreshed and excited.

"Hey," an idea suddenly popped into Mater's head. "Let's go give Miss Sally a hug."

Lightning grinned mischievously.

"Let's."

They rushed towards her and Sally saw their intentions a mile away.

"No! Guys, no!" She shouted, turning and making a break for it. "Sheriff, help!"

"File a formal report!" Sheriff called after her. He sure wasn't going to do any running in this heat. Mater turned towards the older man, contemplating whether he should get a hug as well.

"Don't even try," Sheriff warned, reaching for the gun on his hip.

Ramone got a hug instead, and he retaliated by giving him wife one.

Lizzie smiled wistfully from her chair, enjoying the sounds of playful laughter and screaming in the town. This was what Stanley would have wanted. This is how it should always be.

* * *

Lightning stepped out of the Cozy Cone trying to dry off his dripping hair. Sally had been too quick and had managed to get away without a drop on her. Him and Mater were ordered by Flo to dry off and come back to the Cafe to get something to eat. Lightning couldn't help but grin as he remembered the day. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun.

Deciding that his hair was dry enough, Lightning tossed the towel onto the bed. He glanced into the mirror and noticed his hair sticking up all over the place. If he was on the track he have to comb it down for the paparazzi. But here in Radiator Springs he just ran his hand over it to smoothen it out.

The sun was sending the last of its evening rays down the street as Lightning made his way towards Flo's. He stopped at one of the gas pumps, watching the traffic light flash repeatedly. He didn't find it as annoying now. In fact, he kinda liked it.

"Hot Rod."

Lightning turned towards the voice and watched Doc shove the keys into his chest. "It's fixed. You can go now."

Lightning suddenly realized he meant the stock car. It was fixed… and he could go? It had only been a few days. The older man looked at him expectantly, clearly hoping Lightning would just take off and hightail it out of there. Lightning fumbled for an excuse.

"I don't have my license."

"Never stopped you before."

Lightning glanced at the keys and the open road. He could make it to the highway before it got dark. There he'd get a signal. He'd call Mack and his loyal driver would drop everything and pick him up. He'd have his trailer with a clean pair of clothes that was actually his. He'd sleep in his own bed with his 95 memorabilia all around him. It was tempting.

"McQueen!" Mater shouted from Flo's. "You coming?"

The rookie was jerked out of his thoughts as he saw Mater waving him over. He was sitting across from Sally in a window booth. Flo was cutting up lasagna and Ramone was pouring everyone some lemonade.

Lightning turned back towards Doc.

"I'm gonna stay for a while longer," he said, stuffing the keys into his pocket. The racer felt a small amount of satisfaction as Doc's jaw ticked in annoyance. He jogged over towards the cafe and Doc watched him slip into the booth next to Mater.

The veteran racer's gaze landed on Sally. He'd never seen her smile like that before. She was falling for that kid and falling for him hard.

He wasn't about to let that happen.

* * *

"Kid?" Sheriff stopped Lightning before him and Mater walked out of the cafe door. It was late and just about everybody had left. The two boys had stayed behind to help Flo clean up in order to get some cookies as a reward.

"Phone lines are working," Sheriff reported, nodding towards the one in the back. He'd notice the light flash on and Flo had allowed him to use it to call the repair company. A few days without outside contact didn't bother Sheriff too much, but they'd never had them down this long and it irked him. He needed contact with the outside world! What if there was a dangerous criminal he needed to be on the lookout for?

"Oh," Lightning glanced at the phone rather distastefully. "They are?"

"Yeah," Sheriff nodded. "You wanna call that driver of yours?"

Lightning glanced outside where Mater was waiting with his truck, having offered him a ride back to the Cozy Cones.

"Umm… You know," Lightning shrugged. "Now's not really a good time…"

Sheriff blanched. The phone lines were working, really working this time. And the kid was opting to stay?

"Yeah, Mack'll probably be really tired and it's a long drive out for him. I'll call him tomorrow."

Not only did the kid want to stay, he was making _excuses_ for staying.

"Well, you know, your sentence was that you continue to work until the phone lines come on again," Sheriff prodded. Maybe the kid was just scared the town would rat him out.

"Oh, I know, I know," Lightning shrugged. "It's just well… "

Even more excuses. Sheriff cut him off with a light slap on the kid's shoulder.

"It's alright, we won't kick you out," he chuckled. "Just let your driver know you're ok tomorrow. Everyone's still looking for you over the radio."

Lightning grinned and bounded down the stairs and past the pumps. Sheriff shook his head fondly. Strange kid, that one.

* * *

In the morning, Lightning found out that some confusion had swept through the town. Apparently, everyone had just automatically assumed that because the stock car was fixed and the phone lines were working, that he'd taken off at first light. He found all of them except for Doc mulling around in front of the Cozy Cone.

"What's going on?" He yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Oh, Red's upset cause he thinks you're gone," Mater explained with a sigh. Lightning grinned and stayed quiet as his friend rambled on, not realizing that Lightning was beside him. Sally covered her mouth with her hand to stop from laughing out loud.

"McQueen!" He suddenly realized the object of his ramblings hadn't left. The racer found himself in a tight hug as an overjoyed Mater embraced him. "You didn't leave!"

"What are you still doing here?" Sarge stepped forward amidst of the town's chuckling.

"Well," Lightning shrugged. "I thought about it… and there's something wrong with the car."

"But Doc fixed it for you," Sheriff protested.

"Oh, I know," Lightning shrugged, reaching into his jacket pocket. "It's just that on the way over here, I think I wrecked the tires…"

Luigi gasped excitedly and Guido's eyes widened. Lighting fished the keys out of his pocket and spun them on his finger before turning to the two Italians.

"You guys think you can help me out?"

Sally hadn't seen the two men so excited in _years_. They almost fell over each other in their rush to get back Casa Della Tires, throwing the doors wide open as Lightning got the stock car and left it completely in their care. It wasn't a Ferrari, but it was still a race car. It would do for now.

It didn't stop there.

While the car was being decked out with a set of Whitewall tires, Lightning commissioned Ramone to come up with a new paint job. The artist was left giddy at the prospect of revamping such a famous car and excitedly checked all of his paints, designs flying through his head.

"Hey, Mater," Lightning whispered to his friend as he went with Sarge into the surplus store. "Remember what I asked you to do."

"Shoo, McQueen, I've got you," Mater grinned. "This'll be fun."

Sally went back to the Cozy Cone just as Luigi and Guido relinquished control of the car to Ramone. She hadn't seen her family so happy in years. That alone was enough to put a smile on her face.

* * *

Doc didn't know what the kid was playing at, but he didn't like it. Not one little bit. He was setting the town ablaze with excitement. Ramone was in his own workshop, giving the stock car a completely new design. He heard shots firing from Sarge's shooting range and realized that Sarge was giving the kid a weapons run-down. The kid was making it clear that his intention was to stay.

His driver was going to be worried for him. Selfish brat.

By midday Doc had decided to take matters into his own hands. He waited for the obnoxious radio announcement to come up again.

"We'd like to remind everyone to keep an eye out for Piston Cup champion, Lightning McQueen," the radio host said far too cheerfully. "If you think you've seen him, contact your local authorities. If you know you've seen him, here's his truck driver's number."

Mack had released his own number to the public two days ago out of desperation.

Doc scribbled down the number onto a piece of paper and switched off the radio. He glanced at the phone then back to number. He didn't hesitate. His mind was made up. Time to get the kid out of his town.

He dialed the number.

* * *

Sally had finally finished her paperwork. The cost of keeping the Cozy Cones still looked grim on paper but she couldn't help but feel that things were going to pick up soon. She'd been feeling more optimistic for days now. Perhaps it was seeing Lightning whine those first few days. She smiled and subconsciously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. He hadn't been doing a whole lot of whining lately, but the optimism was still there.

A knock on her door caused her to look up. Mater was standing outside the office, a giddy expression on his face. Sally stored her papers and stood up.

"Miss Sally," Mater bowed with a flourish as Sally opened the door.

"Alright, Mater, what are you doing?" Sally crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. Mater cleared his throat dramatically.

"Lightning McQueen requests your presence on Main Street," he announced. "He's also asking you to bring your Porsche."

"Is this a street race?" Sally asked, eyebrows raised.

"What! No," Mater shook his head. "'Course, that wouldn't be a bad idea…"

Sally decided to cut him off before he actually gave the idea some serious thought.

"I'll be there."

"Ok," Mater sounded pleased. "See you!" He turned and bolted back in the way he'd come. Sally glanced down the street, squinting in the fading light. What did those two have planned?

She grabbed the keys to the Porsche and hurried outside. She climbed in and the familiar engine hummed to life as the turned the key.

Sally drove to Flo's where she saw Lightning standing with Mater.

"Here she comes," Mater couldn't stand still.

"Shhh…" Lightning whispered as he saw Sally climbing out. "Don't spoil it."

"Hey, Stickers," Sally greeted, coming towards him. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, nothing," Lightning said innocently. Sally saw right through him. Lightning cleared his throat. "Oh, look," he glanced up at sky. "It's getting dark."

Sally waited, small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. What were they playing at?

"I said," Lightning raised his voice. "Isn't it getting dark out?"

Red finally stepped in and started Lizzie's radio for her. That was the signal. Everyone turned on their neon and the town flickered to life around Sally. Her smile dropped to be replaced by an expression of utter wonder.

It was better than she possibly could have imagined. Flo's Cafe, Ramone's store, Casa Della Tires... everything was lit up like during the town's heyday. She stood for a moment just taking it all in.

"Yo, Sally!" Ramone called out and she turned to see Ramone leaning out of the window of Flo's car. Flo herself was driving.

"You gotta go cruisin, honey!" Flo called out.

"Oh, right!" Sally turned towards Lightning. "You drive!"

"Better be careful," Mater nudged his friend. "You wreck her car like you did yours she'll never forgive you."

Lightning just shot his friend a playful glare and stepped into the driver's seat of the Porsche, rolling down the window.

The whole town was on Main Street, cruising down and enjoying the nostalgia. Neon lights lit up Fillmore's coloured van but reflected more clearly off Sarge's Jeep. Luigi was wiping tears of joy in the passenger seat of the little yellow Fiat him and Guido shared. Guido just had a soft smile on his face and hummed gently to himself.

Lizzie had somehow managed to start the Ford Motel T and slipped past Sally's Porsche, giving the couple inside a flirtatious wink. For once in his life, Lightning didn't mind being passed. Sally was having the time of her life and he wasn't about to risk anything with her Porsche.

Everyone spent an hour driving back and forth listening to the old tunes playing from Lizzie's radio. There was no point to it other than it was delightful and they were having fun doing so.

The desert around them was pitch black when Lightning finally pulled back into the Cozy Cones parking lot. Sally turned to look at him, her eyes shining more brightly than all the neon lights put together. Lightning secretly thought she was prettier than all of them as well.

"You did all of this, didn't you?" She asked, glancing back where the glare of the lights could still be seen.

"Well, yeah," Lightning shrugged. "I mean, I didn't do all of it, but I asked around a bit whether the neon could still work."

He glanced down as Sally put her hand over his. He suddenly forgot about the neon lights as he stared into her eyes. She was so beautiful. Lightning felt for a moment like he was in the romantic movie he caught Mack watching once.

"Thank you," Sally said softly. Lightning couldn't reply, brain unable to come up with anything comprehensible. She leaned forward as if she were about to kiss him. Lightning's heart pounded as he leaned forward as well, lost in the moment.

It never happened.

Just before her eyes closed, Sally caught sight of a flash of light in her peripheral vision. It wasn't the Cozy Cabin neon light. It was coming from the road. She pulled away, completely forgetting about her date.

"A customer!" She exclaimed, climbing out of the car. Lightning opened his eyes and sat dumbstruck for a moment before realizing what had happened. He climbed out after Sally, upset that their moment had been ruined.

Flo had pulled her car into the cafe parking lot when Ramone noticed.

"Yo, guys," he called out to the rest of the town who were all thinking about drifting back home. "We got a customer."

Lightning stood with Sally in the night air, squinting at the light coming towards them. It didn't look like a car. In fact, it looked like a truck. As it came closer Lightning forgot about the kiss-that-never-happened amidst his joy at seeing the familiar red semi.

"Mack!"


	10. Chapter 10

"Mack!" Lightning shouted, running forward and surprising Sally.

Mack spotted his young charge on the side of the road and the brakes squealed as he hurriedly stopped the truck.

"Kid!" He shouted, clambering out just as Lightning came towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Lightning grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I'm here to pick you up!"

Lightning was about to tell Mack to chill out and calm down but the driver was almost frantic.

"Where's the car? It's ok isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure, it's parked over there outside Ramone's…"

"We gotta load it up!" Mack glanced down the street and could just make out the stockcar.

"What, why?" Lightning grabbed Mack's arm as he turned back towards the truck. It was still running.

"Cause, kid, the paparazzi's hot on my tail!" Mack said frantically. "I told them you took a replica car out for a joy ride, you know, the type Hicks has."

Lightning caught on quickly. Of course! If word got out he'd actually taken the stock car on the road it would be all over the news like Flo's lemonade on a hot day. Sally got it as well.

"Go!" She said quickly. "We'll hold them off for as long as we can."

Mack got into the truck as Lightning ran ahead, leading the way towards where the car was parked.

The rest of the town quickly pulled their cars to the side of the road and got out as Sally called to them. She could make out several more vehicles coming their way, but she was pretty sure that they weren't customers.

"Look at all them pretty lights," Fillmore gazed dreamily in the horizon.

"Those aren't pretty lights!" Sarge shot the hippie an angry look. "Those are the paparazzi!" The veteran looked as if he were about to start assigning battle stations.

"Alright, Sarge, calm down," Sheriff tried to pacify him.

"Now remember," Sally turned to the small town. "Lightning's race car was never here. It was a replica."

"Um… did this replica have a door as well?" Mater asked, suddenly nervous. Who were all these people and why did they pose a danger to his friend?

Mack opened the hauler doors as Lightning got into the stock car. He'd filled it in earlier at Flo's.

"Kid, what did you do to it?" Mack asked, looking with shock at the new paint job and the Whitewall tires.

"I'll tell you later," Lightning said, hurriedly pulling it in and scrambling out. The two had just closed the door and fastened the latches when they heard the sound of helicopter blades above them. A searchlight flashed on them and they both raised their arms as the glare almost blinded them.

"It's the ghost light!" Mater screeched from further off.

"CNN Mack?" Lightning shouted, seeing the logo on the side of the helicopter.

"Yeah," Mack shouted back. "Everyone's been following your story, kid. Fox, MSNBC, and a bunch of others!"

Lightning saw a group of reporters and news vans pull up at the Cozy Cones. He hadn't realized just how popular he'd become during his disappearance.

"Come, on! We gotta go!" Mack turned towards the semi, still idling and waiting patiently for its owner.

"What, right now?" Lightning exclaimed. "I need to go say goodbye!"

"Well, go hurry it up!" Mack called. "I'll turn this thing around and meet you back there!"

Lightning ran back to the Cozy Cones as Mack started the semi, looking for somewhere in the small town where he could turn it around.

Sally had dealt with reporters before, but she was completely unprepared for the onslaught that was the paparazzi. As soon as the Fox news van pulled to a halt, a reporter stepped out with her cameraman. There was an onslaught of flashes as people stepped out of their cars, cameras raised. Sarge almost had a seizure and had to pulled away from the chaos by Fillmore and Sheriff.

The Fox news reporter turned to Sally.

"We're here, live at the scene where Lightning McQueen has been found. Do you know the racer in question?" She turned sharply to Sally.

"Yes… Well, we met when he rolled in," Sally managed to reply. Everyone was shouting questions at her.

"In what condition was LIghtning McQueen when he rolled in?"

"Has he been charged at all?"

 _Flash, snap!_

"Had he been here before?"

"Look, one at a time," Sally tried to stutter. Mater tried coming to her rescue.

"Shoot, I met him when I towed him in."

The cameras turned towards him. _Flash, snap!_

"Why did you tow him in?" The Fox reporter demanded. "Was he hurt at all?"

"Just out of gas," Mater shrugged, not as affected as Sally was by all the attention. Several other people tried shouting questions at him but he couldn't distinguish one voice from another.

"Sally!"

Sally turned as she saw Lightning running towards her. She ducked around the reporters who were still barraging Mater with questions as he reached her.

"Look," he was out of breathe. "I need to head back. This isn't…" He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly overwhelmed. He wanted to tell her he really liked her and hoped he could see her again. This wasn't how the night was supposed to end.

"No, I get it," Sally squeezed his hand. "Get out of here, it's a freakshow."

The reporters caught sight of him and Lightning quickly let go of Sally. Any whiff of a relationship and the paparazzi would be all over her as well. She was pushed to the side as the media surrounded him.

"Mr. McQueen, have you been here before?"

"Why did you leave LA so promptly after the race?"

"Have you taken the offer with Dinoco?"

"Were you held here against you will?"

Lightning was completely stumped. He'd dealt with these guys before but somehow it felt different now. It was dark and he was disorientated. The reporters weren't surrounding him on the track, they were surrounding him in Radiator Springs. It felt so wrong! They weren't supposed to be here!

The Rusteze racer was saved from being completely trampled when an air horn managed to drown out the reporters' shouting. Mack was pushing towards them, seeing his racer being practically assaulted with camera flashes. He was having none of it. It was a huge testimony to Mack's skill that he had managed to turn around so quickly in the small town. The reporters scurried out of the way like the Red Sea under Moses' staff.

"Get in!" Mack called, pulling the air horn cord again to silence the reporters. Lightning rounded the semi and hauled himself into the passenger seat. Mack headed straight for the road, hoping to put as much distance between them and the media as possible.

Lightning glanced back, trying to see the neon lights of the Cozy Cabins. He couldn't make it out amidst the other lights and the flashes. A horrible feeling of despair settled over him. Before he knew it, Radiator Springs was out of his sight. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

* * *

The reporters left as quickly as they had come, eager to follow the truck and maybe catch a few more words with the young celebrity at a truck stop. Sally watched them in silence as they faded into the distance. The rest of the town edged closer, half of them still trying to comprehend what had happened.

"He's gone?" Mater asked after the last light had faded. Sheriff swallowed before answering as evenly as he could.

"Yes, Mater, he's gone," he said firmly. "No doubt a lot of people are worried about him. He'll have to convince them that he's alright."

"But… I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Red sniffed and unashamed wiped a tear away from his eye. Sheriff rested a heavy hand on Mater's shoulder. Sally crossed her arms, suddenly cold. Flo came to stand beside her, hugging her gently from the side. Luigi and Guido stood next to Lizzie. The old lady didn't say anything, but knew something wasn't sitting right. Something was missing.

"How did they even find him?" Ramone asked quietly, glancing around the group. "He's been around us the whole day. He didn't call nobody."

"I did."

The town turned around to see Doc standing there. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he glanced at the now-empty road.

"You called them?" Sally couldn't keep the emotion out of her voice. It cracked under the betrayal. "How could you?"

Doc had been ready to defend his decision but felt a pang of guilt. He couldn't help it with the way Sally was looking at him.

"It was for the best, Sally," his tone of voice softened. The lawyer shook her head and hurried past him. Flo caught up with her and lead her towards the cafe, knowing that no one should be alone after an abrupt departure.

Doc watched as the rest of the town's people filed away, taking their cars back home.

"Where did he go?" Lizzie asked Red as he led her back towards her Ford Model T. The firefighter just shook his head and avoided eye contact with Doc.

Mater and Sheriff were the last to leave, Mater just staring off into the distance as his best friend was taken further and further away from him.

"I'll be at Flo's," Sheriff finally said quietly, leaving Mater to his thoughts. The officer shot Doc a cold look as he passed him. Doc was more than ready to recuperate with an ice cold stare of his own. The veteran racer stepped beside Mater and the two watched in silence for a few moments. The tow truck driver finally pulled himself together.

"Yer welcome to join us, Doc," he murmured quietly, shuffling towards Flo's.

Doc was left standing in the empty street. Slowly, the neon lights flickered off and the colourful town returned to its previous state. Red turned off the radio and the engines were shut down and the keys pulled out.

It was suddenly very quiet. Doc realized with dismay that the silence was even worse than the kid's temper tantrums. He hadn't expected that. Not in the least.

* * *

The reporters followed them for a few miles before finally giving up. Mack was going to push through all the way back to LA and they wouldn't have a chance to interview Lightning anymore. Slowly the helicopter flew ahead of Mack to its headquarters, and one by one the cars behind them dwindled away.

Mack had been driving in tense silence, but started relaxing after about an hour. It was just the open highway in front of them and a few lone cars driving past. He glanced at Lightning. The kid had been pretty tense as well but was relaxed now that the reporters were gone.

"So, kid," Mack asked. "You wanna get in the trailer?"

Lightning had never driven with him before. Apparently sitting in the cab was boring. The trailer had everything from a tv to a stereo and plenty of music to listen to. Lightning considered it but the thought of sitting in the trailer alone sounded cold and isolating. He didn't feel like it.

"Is it ok if I sit here with you instead?" He asked, casting a nervous glance in Mack's direction. The driver, although a little stunned by the racer's decision, nodded slowly.

"Um… sure… If you want."

He stopped looking for a place to pull off and focused ahead, casting small glances towards Lightning every now and again. The Rusteze trucker had always wondered what would be like to have the racer joining him in the cab. Gray and some of the other truckers always said it made the drive more enjoyable to have someone to talk to. Mack had given up on Lightning, figuring the kid would always opt for the more comfortable quarters in the trailer. Now that Lightning was actually here, Mack wasn't quite sure what to say.

The silence was kind of awkward. Lightning didn't notice as he propped his elbow against the window sill, staring listlessly outside.

"So…" Mack cleared his throat, bringing Lightning out of his brooding. "What happened to you, kid?"

Lightning sat back in the chair and glanced down, playing with the zipper on the Rusteze jacket.

He hesitated, but told his driver everything. It was pretty much what Mack expected. The kid had freaked out upon arriving back at his trailer and finding everything deserted. He'd hightailed it out of there and ran out of gas. A tow truck driver had found him and hauled him back to Radiator Springs, where he'd been dragged in front of a judge who'd dished out a good dose of community service.

It was at this point in Lightning's narrative that Mack realized something strange. The kid had changed. The trucker was fully expecting the young racer to moan about how horrible community service was and about how unfair his circumstances were. But Lightning started talking animatedly about all of the residents in the town.

Mack heard all about Mater and Lightning's cow tipping experience. He heard about Luigi and Guido and the amazing Leaning Tower of Tires. Lightning told him about Sarge and Fillmore and how no one in town needed an alarm clock because they'd always start the morning by arguing.

"And then there's Sally," Lightning sighed, leaning back and looking at the roof of the cab dreamily.

Mack smiled slightly. Seems like his racer had developed himself a little crush.

"She pretty?" He asked.

"She's amazing."

Lightning told him all about the Wheel Well and how Sally had taken him for a drive. He gave Mack an unbiased version about how he'd tried to help clean the Tower of Tires but ended up sprayed with water instead. He finished by telling Mack about how everyone had fixed their neon and how cool the town had looked.

Mack didn't interrupt but listened with a small amount of wonder. He'd never heard the kid sound so happy before. Sure, he got excited about his racing, but this was different. The kid had actually gone out and made _friends_. He couldn't be more pleased.

"Say," Lightning suddenly had a thought. "How did you know where I was? I never called you."

"Someone in town called me," Mack explained. "I don't know his name… But he was definitely older."

"It was probably Doc," Lightning leaned back, not really surprised. "He was the judge who sentenced me."

"Didn't sound too happy with you there," Mack commented.

"Yeah… Guess he wasn't," Lightning shrugged. "Don't really blame him though. I found out something that I shouldn't have."

There was something in Lightning's voice that made Mack glance at the rookie again. The kid was smiling, as if remembering something fantastic. The trucker expected him to tell him at any moment, but he stayed quiet. Huh, a secret. Interesting. Lightning was never very good at keeping secrets.

"Doc is… something else," Lightning opted to say instead, glancing out of the window again. Mack heard a certain degree of respect in his voice. Doc must have made quite an impression.

Within four hours, LA's city lights suddenly appeared in the distance. It stretched before them like a vast sea of yellow. Mack noticed Lightning glance up but his expression quickly fell as he realized what lay ahead.

"Hey… Are Rusty and Dusty still here?" Lightning asked. He didn't know if the Rusteze brothers had flown back home to Boston.

"Sure are," Mack nodded. "They didn't want to leave until we found you. They'll probably want to meet tomorrow night to discuss where to set up our headquarters… If you're still staying with them."

Mack's heart sank as he remembered that Lightning was probably still planning on taking the Dinoco sponsorship.

"Oh… right," Lightning had completely forgotten about the sponsorship. He fell back against the seat miserably, pondering the Dinoco offer. Dinoco's head office was in Dallas. It wasn't far… But he wouldn't be able to go back to Radiator Springs very often. Yeah, sure, there was a helicopter, but the little town really was in the middle of nowhere. On the other hand, maybe Rusty and Dusty could set up a head office in Phoenix or something. That was closer.

But would Doc allow that? He'd already shown Lightning that he pretty much called the shots in the town.

Lightning was tired and all the thinking was far too hard. He glanced at the city lights instead. They were all rather boring and the same shade of yellow. Nothing like the neon lights back in Radiator Springs. Lightning glanced at the truck's radio to see the time. It had been 8 when they'd left Radiator Springs. It was 11 now.

"Where we heading?" He asked Mack as the trucker turned off the ramp.

"Back to the track," Mack replied. "We're gonna park the trailer there and take a rental to the hotel. Once we're there you're going to _sleep_."

He hadn't missed how tired Lightning looked. The young racer smiled slightly. It was always interesting when Mack tried to put his foot down.

"Sure thing," he agreed. Sleep sounded like an excellent idea. "Hey… Just one thing."

"What?" Mack asked, a little bit hesitant.

"Could you drop me off at the hospital?" Lightning asked. "I just want check on the King's process."

"Oh, sure," Mack shrugged, figuring the hospital was a quick stop. "You heard anything from him?"

Other than a quick text from Gray, Mack hadn't heard anything about the Dinoco racer. The sponsor hadn't released an official statement and the media hadn't cared enough to ask.

"Well, I called Tex a few days ago," Lightning admitted. "You know, when the landlines worked for like 2 minutes then broke again? He said the King should be alright… But I just, you know, wanna check."

Mack nodded and planned the route to take the kid past the hospital. It was quiet so he stopped the semi, letting it idle as Lightning clambered out.

"I'll be back out here in fifteen minutes," he told the kid and Lightning nodded.

Mack watched as the kid opened the hospital door and hurried in. He drove off, tired but relieved at the day's outcome. He was oblivious to what the next one would bring.


	11. Chapter 11

Lightning had never been a big fan of hospitals. They brought back unpleasant memories, especially at night. But shoving those thoughts aside, Lightning approached the nurse at the front desk and said he was just checking on a friend on the third floor. The nurse waved towards the elevator, knowing there was a station and security on every floor.

The Rusteze racer ignored the erie feeling on the ground floor as he pressed the button for the elevator. He wouldn't be here long. Just a quick update on the King's progress and he'd go back to the hotel with Mack.

Lightning stepped onto the familiar floor, hurrying towards the nurse's station. The waiting room was empty.

"Excuse me?" He asked quietly and the nurse looked up. She was about the same age as Sally, although her hair was a little lighter.

"Yes, how can I help you?" She smiled.

"Hi," Lightning greeted. "I'm just here to check up on Strip Weathers?"

The nurse recognized him. He was Lightning McQueen, the young Piston Cup Champion. She had been ordered not to speak to the press, but Lightning was an acquaintance of Mr. Weathers.

"Let me go ask his doctor," she stood up. "Wait here." She hurried down one of the hallways.

Lightning tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter, confident that the King was alright. It had been a week, right? They should have him fixed up by now. He was tired but too jittery to even consider sleep.

 _I just need the confirmation_ , he thought to himself.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as a door slammed open in another hall. Curios, Lightning stepped away from the counter and glanced down the passage. A young doctor was standing there shaking his head. Behind him Lightning saw several nurses but the doctor closed the door behind him, raking a shaky hand through his hair.

The door across from him opened and an older doctor stepped out, several prescription bottles in his hands.

"What happened?" He asked his younger colleague.

"I... he's dead," the first doctor shook his head. Lightning's breathing hitched and he didn't move for fear of being seen.

"What?" The older man dropped the bottles. "How? He was stable."

"I don't know," the younger doctor raked his hand through his hair again. "His heart just slowed down. We tried to get it working again but..."

"It stopped," the older man guessed.

"Yeah," the younger doctor said weakly. "I tried everything."

A silence settled between the two professionals as they came to term with the news. Lightning stayed absolutely still. _No_ he thought. _It can't be_.

The younger man sighed, pulling himself together.

"We're going to have to let his wife know," he said despondently, helping the older man pick up the prescription bottles.

"The media will have a field day," the older man said grimly. "Another one bites the dust."

 _Another one?_ Lightning almost choked. He couldn't hear anymore. He turned and made a beeline for the door, stumbling towards the elevator. How could this be? The King had been stable, Tex had _told_ him the older racer would make it. This couldn't be happening! It couldn't be! The words echoed in his head. _We're going to have to call his wife... the media will have a field day... Another one bites the dust._

Lightning watched the elevator doors close, cutting off the scene he knew he shouldn't have seen. Again, he felt ashamed for having witnessed so much. He shouldn't have heard what he did. That was the King's wife's right to hear first. It wasn't his prerogative.

The Rusteze racer watched the lights flash in the elevator, signalling that they were going down. He wanted to get out of here, he needed to run away. He hated this city, only bad things happened here… _No_. He stopped those thoughts in an instant. He wasn't going to run away. He'd done that before and ended up in a whole heap of trouble. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet had run away and look where he was now.

He needed to face this. He wasn't going to turn tail and run. But what could he do? _What would Sally do?_ He remembered her strict sense of justice, how she made _sure_ he paid for his crimes.

As the elevator dinged to signal the arrival on the first floor the idea came to Lightning.

Chick Hicks. This was all his fault. He had killed the King and was going to walk away scott free. No one was going to bring him to justice. He, Lightning McQueen was going to stand up to him. He was going to avenge the King.

He was going to face Chick Hicks.

* * *

Mack knew the second Lightning stepped out of the building that something was wrong. The kid had the same dazed expression he'd had when the King crashed out. Mack's eyes followed him worriedly as he made his way over to the car and stumbled into the passenger seat. The trucker waited for him to fumble with and put on his seat belt.

"Everything alright?" He asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Lightning's tone held an edge that Mack had never heard from him before. "It will be."

Mack didn't know what to think so pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

"Turn right here," Lightning suddenly said as they approached a light.

"What?" Mack asked. "Kid, we've gotta get you back to the hotel to get some sle…"

"There's one more place I have to stop," Lightning cut him off. He was looking straight ahead of him. Mack couldn't afford to study him any longer as his attention was required on the road. He hesitated but decided to turn right. He was with Lightning. What was the worst that could happen?

Lightning's jaw was clenched as he focused on the road signs. He'd heard Hicks mention this club before with his crew. All of them were planning to party in LA once they got here. It was actually going to be a Piston Cup victory party, but Lightning had always known Hicks wouldn't win it. He'd actually looked up the directions, fully planning on showing up to crash Hicks' festivities.

He was glad he had.

The further Lightning told him to go, the more worried Mack became. They were heading straight into LA's party district. The kid had never wanted to go clubbing or drinking before. He'd just turned 21 six months ago. Why was he going there now?

Mack couldn't stand it any longer.

"Kid, what's wrong?" He asked as they turned left. Oh, they were deep into the club district now.

"Nothing," Lightning gritted out.

"Look, did someone say something to you?" Mack tried again.

"I'm fine!" Lightning protested, his tone of voice saying the exact opposite.

Mack pressed out.

"Look, you know I'm here for you wha…"

"The King's dead!" Lightning practically shouted it.

Mack reeled back, more shocked at Lightning's tone of voice than his actual statement. He looked at the racer, whose teeth clenched in fury. It was a good thing they were at a red light. Mack was just about to ask how Lightning knew and what happened when the kid spotted what he'd been looking for. A green Buick. An exact replica of Hicks' race car.

Lighting opened the door and was out of the passenger seat before Mack could stop him. It took the trucker a minute to realize what was happening in his shock.

"Kid!" Mack tried to call out but it was too late. Lightning was weaving through the cars straight towards the Hollywood Club Crawl.

Mack looked desperately as the light in front of him turned green, leaving him with no choice but to keep on moving. Lightning was going into the club to confront Hicks no doubt. He needed to be there else the kid would get himself killed!

* * *

Lightning didn't notice as Mack was forced to go further down the street behind him, looking desperately for a place to park. In the dark, no one really noticed who he was as he pushed his way to the door.

"ID," a bouncer stopped him, huge hand sprawling solidly against his shoulder. Lightning glared at the man and shoved his license in his face. The bouncer did a double take at the name. Lightning McQueen wasn't known for any sort of night life whatsoever. He checked the date of birth. McQueen was 21 alright, old enough to get in.

The bouncer hesitated. He wasn't stupid. Lightning McQueen was the hottest name in the country right now. If he was let into the club it would be a publicity boost for sure. On the other hand, the kid didn't have a ticket...

Impatiently, Lightning snatched his licence back and pushed into the club. The bouncer didn't stop him.

Using his small size as an advantage, Lightning weaved his way through the crowds gathered there for a good time. He stopped for a moment to gather his bearings as he reached a small space. He'd never been in a club before. His sponsors had tried to explain that it wasn't the image they wanted for their company, so they would appreciate it if Lightning refrained from going. Upon learning that Dinoco wouldn't like the image either, Lightning had avoided them. He didn't really care. He was in this business for racing, not for partying.

He was starting to think he wouldn't like clubbing either.

There was loud music and flashing lights, muddling his already confused mind. He forced himself to focus. The bar. Hicks would be at the bar.

Somehow he found it. Once there it wasn't hard to spot the Hostile Takeover driver. Lightning saw the neon green jacket a mile away.

Lightning marched over to him. He was sitting atop a barstool, drink in hand, laughing away with two ladies on each arm. Lightning didn't know who they were and he didn't care.

"Hicks!" He called out and the other racer stopped his bragging, sneering as he saw his better.

"Aww, look, it's Lightning," he mocked. "I thought you'd ended up dead in a ditch somewhere." Hicks sounded disappointed.

Lightning was fuming. Didn't Hicks realize what he'd done? He'd killed the King. Now Lynda would be a widow. The pittie would probably have a breakdown. Gray would have lost a friend. The crew chief would never forgive himself. Lightning was furious. Forget his legacy, it was in the dust anyway! Hicks had killed an innocent man and left behind a grieving family. It was up to Lightning to make sure that _never_ happened again.

Pulling together every ounce of self-control he had, Lightning laid out his challenge. He couldn't control his tone of voice, but he managed to control his words. He also managed to not sock Hicks in the jaw. He considered that a personal victory.

"I want a rematch."

That got Hicks' attention. He hadn't expected this curveball. He glanced over Lightning, not bothering to hide the surprise on his face. Was the kid drunk? High? Lightning stood there, fists clenched by his sides. He was furious, Hicks wasn't sure why, but he was completely sober.

The Hostile Takeover racer decided to not to grace the comment with an answer and laughed. It had the effect he wanted as the kid turned red in indignation.

"What makes you think I'd wanna go up against you?" Hicks jeered, taking a gulp from his glass. "Wait your turn, next season you'll wish you had enough of me."

"I have something you want," Lightning smirked triumphantly, not realizing that it came across rather cold.

"You?" Hicks laughed, the ladies next to him following his cue. "What could you possibly have that I'd want?" He mocked.

Lightning's voice came out clear and straight, carrying more conviction than he thought was possible.

"My Piston Cup."

That got Hicks' attention. He put his glass down and stared at the kid incredulously. Was he really serious?

The wheels started turning in Hicks' head. His plan had to win the cup that year, but that hadn't worked out. Turns out the racing board was quite upset at the King's crash (no doubt pressured by Dinoco) and as a result, was putting pressure on Hostile Takeover. Chick wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to race next season. If he did there would be constraints.

Hicks would never be as pathetic as to steal a cup. But winning one in an unofficial race… Yeah, he could live with that.

The racer stood up from the bar stool and approached the Rusteze driver. He expected the kid to cower or shrink back away from him, like he'd done outside the studio. Lightning didn't even flinch.

"Name your stakes."

Lightning was well aware that Hicks was trying to physically intimidate him but didn't budge. Maybe it was the rage, but he wasn't scared of the other racer like he was a week ago. Maybe it was because he'd done a whole lot of learning in that time. He'd faced off against the Fabulous Hudson Hornet, a town of hillbillies, and a rampaging bull. Heck, even the angry rooster was more intimidating than the Hostile Takeover driver.

His voice came out quiet and even. No temper tantrums and no shouting. This was serious.

"If you win, you get the Piston Cup. If I win, you retire from the series and _never_ race again."

The only witnesses were the two girls Hicks were talking to. They watched as blue eyes met brown in a unrelinquishing standoff.

"Deal," Hicks grit out. "Tomorrow, on the track. I've got ways to arrange it. Race starts at 9."

"I'll be there," Lightning promised. He turned and walked away, plan settled in his mind.

"Lightning," Chick mocked and the other racer turned around. "Don't forget my prize."

"Oh, I won't," Lightning responded, just loud enough for Hicks to hear. He kept going back towards the exit, suddenly feeling sick at the sight of the other racer. Chick turned and kept laughing with the girls. At the rate he was going at he was going to show up at the track with a hangover. But the Hostile Takeover racer wasn't stupid and would quickly round up his crew.

Lightning had never liked Chick. Despite being remarkably untalented and playing dirty, he was a jerk to all the other racers and easy to dislike. But he had never hated him before. He did that night.

* * *

Mack was making his way down the road a second time, looking anxiously for a place to park, when he spotted McQueen. He risked stopping next to the pavement as there were no other cars behind him and rolled down the passenger window.

"Kid, what are you doing?" He asked. "Get in!"

Lightning obliged and slipped in. Mack was relieved. He'd seen the green Buick and thought that Lightning would have done something stupid like gotten into a fight. But there were no bruises, no black eyes. Maybe Lightning had come to his senses before finding the other racer?

Mack made sure Lightning strapped in and made his way to the hotel. Nothing was going to persuade him otherwise.

"You gotta stop just running off like that," Mack admonished. Lightning stared listlessly ahead of him on the dash. Mack was suddenly worried. All of that rage from earlier was gone. Was the shock just setting in now?

"Can we talk back at the hotel?" Mack asked once it was clear that Lightning wasn't going to offer any information on his actions inside the club.

Lightning nodded and Mack was satisfied. Taking care of this racer was a full time time job.

* * *

The kid had somehow made it to the shower and into his red 95 pajamas. Mack found him sitting on one of the single beds in the hotel room, legs drawn up to his chest and hugging himself. The driver handed him a cup of hot chocolate which he'd gotten from the lobby. Lightning took it and drank it absentmindedly.

Mack sat on the other bed, thinking carefully. The King dead? He certainly hadn't seen that coming. Last time he'd heard from Gray the other trucker had reported the man stable. This would certainly shake the racing world to it's core. Mack couldn't deny that he himself was shocked and a little sad, but the kid was clearly taking it harder.

Mack waited for him to finish half of the warm drink before speaking.

"Look… kid," he started slowly, not really good at pep talks. "I know you're upset. It's been a long day and it's a shock… But what Hicks did isn't your fault."

"I know," Lightning said quietly, glancing down. "But I've gotta do something about it."

"Why?" Mack asked.

"I dunno… Cause it's the right thing to do," Lightning shrugged. Mack couldn't argue with that. But it wasn't right that Lightning had to step up to the cheat. He'd much rather prefer the racing board do it.

"What did you do?" He asked, half-dreading the answer.

"When I went into the club… I challenged Hicks to a race," Lightning finally admitted. "It's simple really. If I win, he stops racing forever."

"And if he wins?" Mack was fully dreading the answer.

"He gets the Piston Cup."

"Kid, you can't do that!" Mack couldn't help but exclaim. "You've been working the whole season for that thing. It's yours! Got your name on it and everything."

"It's not worth it, Mack," Lightning finally glanced up at his friend and the trucker softened. Lightning looked absolutely torn. "A Piston Cup isn't worth someone's life. Besides," Lightning looked down and picked at the pillow. "No one will remember it anyway."

"When is this race going to take place?" Mack asked, feeling pretty torn as well. On the one hand he knew this was a terrible idea. On the other hand, he thought about what the King's death would do the racing world. About what it would do to his family. Lightning was right, Hicks needed to get off the track.

"Tomorrow at 9," Lightning responded. Mack waited to hear the location. If it was a street race he was definitely going to stop it, even if he had to call the police on his racer.

"Where?"

"At the track… Hicks is arranging it."

Lightning finished his hot chocolate and put the mug on the bedside table. Mack let everything sink in. This was a bad idea, but nothing stopped Lightning McQueen once he put his mind to it.

"Alright, kid," he sighed. "I won't stop you."

"Does that mean you'll be there?" Lightning asked hopefully.

"Sure, kid," Mack shook his head. "Getting more gray hairs by the day."

"You'll go bald before you go gray," Lightning teased lightly and Mack couldn't help but grin.

"You know I'm gonna have to have the car repainted, right?" He asked. Lightning's face well. Ramone's new design…

"Oh, yeah… I forgot about that," he admitted.

"I'll take care of it," Mack sighed. He'd been building up contacts since he started this job and knew several guys who could get the job done quickly and discreetly. He reached for his phone, but stopped.

"I just don't get one thing," he said. "Why does it have to be you, kid?" Why did his racer have to put everything on the line to get a cheat off the track? Wasn't that the responsibility of the guys who organized these races?

"No one else will," Lightning shrugged, but there was determination in his eyes. Mack knew the kid was right, but felt a stir of pride that surprised him. This was a bad idea and Mack was already imagining everything that could go wrong. But no matter what the end result was, Lightning could keep his head held high. He was trying to do the right thing.

Mack arranged everything. By the time he was finished it was 12:30 and he was bone tired. Lightning was still awake.

"Hey, Mack," he glanced at the trucker just as he was about to turn off the light.

"Yeah, kid?" Mack asked, finger hesitating on the switch. He tried very hard to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.

"I'm gonna miss him," Lightning whispered so quietly Mack almost didn't hear. His normally confident tone of voice sounded so lost and so small Mack couldn't help but come sit beside him. He hesitated, wanting to reach out to hug the kid. Mack had never actually hugged him before, even after the crash. The kid wouldn't like it, he was too old for that.

Turns out Lightning wasn't as he leaned against Mack, almost carefully. The bigger man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Aww, kid," he sighed. "I'm gonna miss him to."

Mack stayed there for him until Lightning finally fell asleep.

* * *

If Lightning hadn't rushed out in shock, if he had stayed and listened, he would have heard the rest of the conversation. And he would have rested a whole lot easier that night.

"These overdoses," the younger doctor sighed. "I'm getting tired of them."

"But you pumped his stomach," the older doctor reasoned. "What else did he do?"

"I suspect he injected something into his system," the younger doctor shook his head. "Autopsy report will tell us for sure. He seemed really determined to die."

The nurse Lightning had been speaking to came back to the counter. Mr. Weathers was recovering well but actually resting on the fourth floor, out of the intensive car unit. She wanted to ask Lightning if she should call the friend sitting with him for more information.

"Mr. Weathers is..." She stopped, confused. The kid was gone. How strange. She checked the cameras on the third floor and the ground floor but he was nowhere in sight. She hoped he would be alright.


	12. Chapter 12

Mack couldn't sleep. Lightning had finally dropped off and the trucker had tucked him in. The kid would need all the rest he could get for going up against Hicks tomorrow. Mack was still worried. Forget about the repercussions from the racing board or sponsors, he was worried about what was going to happen with this unofficial race. There would be no officials, no security, no emergency services… Maybe he should call the authorities and shut down the race. Would they though? If Hicks was paying for use of the track it wasn't breaking any rules… was it? Mack shook his head, deciding against the fatal call. The kid would never forgive him.

He felt like he was at his wit's end. He couldn't handle this kid anymore, neither could Rusty and Dusty. Lightning was a force of nature. Once he set his mind to something he'd follow it through all the way to the bitter end. This race with Hicks... It frightened him. What if Lightning crashed out?

Lightning would go through with this, there was no stopping him. But he needed help, he couldn't do it alone.

The only person Mack could think of who Lightning would at least partially listen to was the King. But he was dead and the whole reason Lightning was in this mess in the first place.

 _That Doc fella_. The idea sprang into Mack's head like a lightbulb. Of course! He remembered the way the kid had mentioned him in the truck with absolute respect and reverence. That was it! This Doc guy had changed Lightning's entire attitude in the course of only a few days. The kid liked him, heck, he respected him. Doc was his only hope. Mack fumbled with his cell and hurriedly checked the call history. There it was! Without any hesitation whatsoever, Mack called the number, hoping the other man would pick up at this late hour.

* * *

The atmosphere in the cafe had been so tense that Doc couldn't bear it. He'd gone home and ended up sitting listlessly in the garage, dim light bulb illuminating the mess around him. The man was deep in thought, replaying the whole day in his mind.

He shouldn't have called the press. That was his only regret. But after talking to the kid's driver he figured it would be easy for Lightning to convince the man to stay a little while longer. Either Mack was a pushover or for some unfathomable reason liked the kid.

The town certainly did.

Although he'd been trying to avoid thoughts of Thomasville, Doc couldn't help but secretly wonder if his sudden departure had affected his old friends as badly as Lightning's departure affected the town. Was Lou as upset as Sally? Did Moon looked as despondent as Mater? Was Smokey as angry at him as Sheriff was right now? Doc flinched at the thought. As least the folks in Radiator Springs knew that Lightning was safe. His old friends in Thomasville had no idea what happened to him. They probably thought he was dead.

Man. And he had called the kid a selfish brat.

"You messed up, Hud," he whispered to himself. Smokey would have said the exact same thing.

Doc was pulled out of thoughts as the telephone rang. He glanced at it, wondering who could be calling at this late hour. It was probably a wrong number but he answered it anyway.

"Doc Hudson," he leaned his elbow on the desk.

"Yeah, Doc?" A familiar voice crackled through. "It's Mack."

"Mack?" Doc asked confused. Why was the trucker calling him? And how did he know his name? He hoped to goodness nothing had happened on the way back to LA.

"Yeah…" Mack sounded unsure. "Look… I'm sorry for calling you… But you're my last hope."

"What is it?" Doc was surprised at the dread he felt. He hoped to goodness that the kid hadn't gotten himself into any more serious trouble.

"It's the kid," Mack explained. "He needs your help."

Doc was more confused than shocked. The kid needed his help?

"I don't understand," he managed to get out.

"It's like this," Mack explained. "You know about the King, right?"

Did he ever. Of course Doc knew about the King. He'd been following the racing world on and off the last few years and it was impossible not to hear Weathers' name mentioned.

"Yeah…" Doc had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear.

"Well, he's dead," Mack didn't mince his words. "Kid overheard it in the hospital, now he's real upset."

Doc ran his hand over his eyes, remembering hearing about the crash. Another pointless death. Another casualty to add to the list.

"Kid's taking it hard?"

"Worse than that," Mack said grimly. "The guy responsible for the crash? Lightning challenged him to a one-on-one."

"He did what?" Doc snapped into the phone. Of all the unbelievably stupid idiotic things the kid could do...

"It's a deal he came up with," Mack rattled on frantically. "If Hicks wins, he gets the Piston Cup. If Lightning wins, Hicks is off the track forever."

"Where is he now?" Doc demanded. He needed to give the kid a piece of his mind. It wasn't the rookie's job to get dangerous racers off the track, it was the racing board's job.

"He's sleeping," Mack responded, glancing back towards the hotel door. He was calling from the hallway. "You're not going to talk him out of it, I tried."

 _Not hard enough_ , Doc thought angrily to himself.

"Listen," Mack stuttered out, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know you… But the kid… He likes you… and he'll listen to you, I can tell. I don't know what you've done to him, but it's a miracle."

 _What I did to him is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to him after this stunt_ , Doc thought to himself. He stayed quiet, letting Mack finish.

"I got no right to ask this," the trucker finished. "But please come out. I'll pay for the gas and everything. The kid… Hicks'll kill him unless someone talks him out of it or helps him through it."

Doc fell back in the chair, completely speechless. This trucker didn't know who he was, did he? The kid must not have told him. Doc had to begrudgingly admit to himself that he was impressed.

"Where's the race?" He asked.

"At the Speedway here in LA," Mack replied, hardly daring to breath.

Doc was thinking about it. That's what surprised him the most. A few days ago, he would have just said no. He would have put the phone down and refused to pick it up again. But this… This was different. There was a man dead and a hot head ready to avenge him.

He weighed the different outcomes in his head. A unofficial race with two racers? No crowds or cameras would be there so it wasn't like he was technically going back… Besides, the kid would need a crew. No doubt he'd completely forgotten about that in whatever emotional state he'd be in.

"Alright," Doc replied. "I'll be there."

Mack didn't bother to hide his relief.

"Thank you so much," he breathed. "The race starts at 9 tomorrow. I hope you'll get here in time."

"I'll do my best," Doc replied before hanging up. What had he just agreed to? He tried not to think too hard about it.

"Well, girl," he turned towards the Hudson Hornet. "Ready to go back?"

She looked as ready as ever.

The veteran racer's musings were interrupted as a loud thumping came from the garage door. He'd recognize that knocking anymore. Sheriff had come to talk with him.

Doc knew exactly what had happened. Sheriff had been brooding in the Cafe, seeing his family upset. He'd finally snapped and was now going to confront the cause of his unhappiness. Switching off the light, Doc opened the door.

There he was, arms crossed. They went to his sides when he saw his old friend.

"Doc," he ground out, tone of voice even but tense.

"Sheriff." Doc leaned against the doorframe.

"Look," Sheriff started. "I don't know what you thought you were playing at, but I think it's high time you explained yourself."

"I know," Doc responded, glancing down. Sheriff wasn't finished yet.

"Do you know how upset they are in there?" He pointed towards Flo's. "That kid brought more life into this town than there's been in years. Sally's on the brink of crying and Mater's never been so sad in his life. Lightning was his only real friend!"

"Sheriff… I know," Doc tried to placate him but the other man wasn't having any of it.

"I know the kid had an attitude, but staying here was doing him a world of good! It was doing the town a world of good! What could you possibly have against him that you called the press out here?"

Sheriff had figured it out then, Doc realized. He'd been the one to call the media. The officer finally stopped, giving Doc time to defend himself.

Doc knew Sheriff was right. He also knew it was time to tell the truth.

"I never... Had anything against him," he admitted. In his mind's eye he saw Smokey nodding in approval. "It was me that was the problem."

Sheriff looked at him in confusion, head turned slightly to the side. He didn't have to ask what Doc meant as he waited for the other man to explain.

"There's something… I gotta show you," Doc pushed himself up. "Something I should have showed you… a long time ago."

Sheriff watched in surprise as Doc stood back, nodding into the garage. He'd never seen the inside of it before, no one in town had. Doc was absolutely uncompromising on his no trespassing rule. But he stepped in, needing answers as to his friend's strange behaviour.

Doc hesitated as his hand hovered over the switch. This was it. Sheriff was going to know everything. He turned it on.

The first thing Sheriff noticed was the Hudson Hornet. He'd of course seen it many times before so that didn't necessarily surprise him. Then he turned to the desk, the framed newspaper clipping in particular. His eyes widened. It couldn't be. He saw the trophies next. It was.

Oh no… There was no way… But it was here in front of him. All the evidence. All the proof he needed.

Doc stood in silence, watching as Sheriff pieced everything together then came to terms with it. He examined the newspaper clipping then the Hudson Hornet. He brushed the dust away from the nameplates on the trophies just like Lightning had. As the silence dragged on Doc's apprehension grew.

"Well," Sheriff sighed, finally glancing back at his friend. "Good thing I'm a sheriff and not a detective." There was a touch of humour in his blue eyes.

Doc smiled ever so slightly.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"All of this," Sheriff waved a hand through the garage, "right under my nose. And I never even suspected it."

"Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Seeing Sheriff's reaction, Doc suddenly wondered why'd it been such a big deal. Why had he kept it hidden all these years? He suddenly felt so much lighter, the apprehension from earlier completely gone.

Sheriff stepped over to him and gripped the man by the arm.

"You'll always be Doc to us," he was smiling. The past was in the past. "Although Mater's gonna want to see all of these." He nodded back towards the trophies.

"He can have them for all I care," Doc shrugged. They suddenly didn't seem so important anymore.

Sheriff's smile fell and he glanced back at the desk, eyes lingering on the crash.

"Why now?" He asked. Doc had kept this a secret for years. What had changed?

The moment turned from lighthearted to sober.

"The kid's in danger," Doc explained and Sheriff's eyes widened. "Not legal," he quickly assured the other man. "Come on, I'll explain to everyone at once."

He stepped outside, fully intending to go to Flo's but Sheriff stopped him with a hand on his arm again.

"I won't ask," Sheriff started, glancing around at the remnants of Doc's past. "Not until you're ready to tell… But just answer me one thing, Doc."

Doc stayed quiet, letting Sheriff know he would.

"When the kid walked into the courthouse," Sheriff started slowly. "What went through your mind when you saw him?"

Doc thought back to that morning almost a week ago. The differences were trivial. Dark hair was blonde. Blue was red. Replace the crossed arms with a pack of cigarettes and the the sneakers with aviators and they'd be exactly the same.

"It was like looking into a mirror."

Sheriff nodded, finally understanding. This is what had been bothering his friend during the kid's stay. He didn't know the whole story, but he knew enough not to ask anymore. Doc would tell him eventually, when he was ready.

"Alright, let's go," he said, turning off the light. "Better hurry it along if it's serious."

"Oh, it's serious," Doc sighed. "I just hope we'll get there in time."

* * *

Everyone in the town glanced up as the little bell above the door jingled. Doc stepped in first, followed by Sheriff. Everyone waited expectantly for an explanation, not saying a word. Doc looked around at all of their faces, knowing he needed to tell them the same thing he'd told Sheriff, who was waiting patiently behind him.

"I… uh…" Doc faltered, but gathered up his courage. "I guess I owe you all an apology."

"For what, Doc?" Mater asked quietly.

"I called the kid's driver," Doc explained. "And the press afterwards. I wanted the kid out of here as quickly as possible… and you deserve to know why."

Even Sally glanced towards him, expression curious as she leaned forward. Doc took a deep breath. This was it.

"You know me as Doc," he started. "My full name is Paul Jesse Hudson. But years ago, I had another name. I was the Fabulous Hudson Hornet."

Ramone was the first to react.

"You?" He exclaimed. "You were that Fabulous Hudson Hornet?"

"That guy was a legend!" Sarge exclaimed.

"Yeah, man, he was lit," Fillmore agreed.

"You're saying he was you?" Ramone asked again.

"Still got the cups to proof it," Doc shrugged.

"Cool!" Mater exclaimed, full out grinning. "Can I see them?"

Doc glanced around, looking for an angry face in the room. They were all a little bit surprised and shocked, but no one really seemed angry. He thought they'd be livid at him, but most of them were staring in awe. In fact, Luigi really didn't seem to all that impressed at all.

"Still not a Ferrari," he mumbled and Guido nodded his agreement. Doc couldn't help but grin.

"All this time and we never knew?" Ramone shook his head. "You're good Doc, you're good."

"Hold on," Flo stood up, eyes narrowed slightly. Doc braced himself. She was going to chew him out for sure. "Why are you telling us this now?" She demanded. "Is it something to do with how Lightning was hauled out of here earlier?"

"It is," Doc responded, secretly relieved that Flo wasn't going to dig into him for lying to them. He turned to the town. Secret identities aside, this was important.

"Alright," he started. "Listen closely because I'm only going to say this once. The kid's in trouble. He going one on one with a rival in a private race tomorrow."

"Why's he doing that?" Sally asked, worry leaking into her voice.

"He's trying to force him into retirement," Doc explained. "This is the same guy who caused the King to crash out. Lightning's trying to avenge him. The kid's got no pit crew and no crew chief. But he's got us."

Doc looked at his town as they all sat up a little straighter. Lightning was in trouble and needed help. They were in.

"Luigi, Guido," he turned to the Italians. "You think you can handle this?"

"Absolutely!" Lugi stood up dramatically, chair clattering to the floor. "That other racer's crew won't know what hit them!" Guido nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, but you can't do it alone," Doc turned to Sarge and Fillmore. "Do you think you can handle the fuel?"

"What kind of question is that?" Sarge asked incredulously, standing up as well. "I've filled up tanks and jeeps under heavy enemy fire. This will pale in comparison."

"Count me in, man," Fillmore nodded his agreement.

"I'll give you a police escort," Sheriff cut in behind Doc. "You'll need to be there soon."

"I'm coming too!" Ramone cut in. "Kid's gotta look good for his photo op afterwards."

"Honey, count me in!" Flo chorused. "Someone's gotta make sure you all remember to eat."

"I'm coming too!" Mater jumped up. "Lightning's gonna need a whole lot of cheering if he's gonna beat that other guy!"

"Alright," Doc glanced around at his town. "Get everything you need. We're going to pull out of here in an hour."

Luigi and Guido barrelled past him, making a beeline for Casa Della tires. Sarge followed, listing off everything he'd need to take. Fillmore nodded in agreement, not understanding half of what the army veteran was saying.

"Ramone," Sheriff caught the other man's arm just as he was about to follow. An idea had occurred to him. "You think you've got time for a quick paint job before we head out?"

"Sheriff, no-" Doc tried to protest, but Ramone caught Sheriff's gist and grinned.

"The Hudson Hornet?" He glanced at Doc. "Sure, I have time! Bring it over. I know I have a picture of it somewhere."

He stepped out of the door hurriedly, not giving Doc a chance to protest. Doc glared at Sheriff who was looking rather smug.

"What?" He leaned back and hooked his thumb in his belt. "You're going back anyway. Might as well do it properly."

Doc could easily refuse, but Sheriff knew he wouldn't. His friend had always had a flair for the dramatic and now that the idea was in his head it wasn't going to leave. Doc mulled it over before deciding that yes. If he was appear in the racing world again, he was going to appear with a bang.

"Doc, wait!" He turned as Sally pushed her way past Sheriff and through the door. Doc was left stunned as Sally hugged him tightly. He stood awkwardly for a few seconds until she pulled back, looking up at him with a wide smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. Doc managed to shrug half-heartedly.

"It's the least I can do."

"Bring him back safely," Sally beamed and Doc could feel himself melt a little.

He ignored Sheriff's smug expression as he made his way to the garage to get the Hudson Hornet.

Looks like he was actually going back for good.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you everyone for all of your reviews and comments! They're very encouraging. As a note to all of you asking me to update, a new chapter will be uploaded every Monday and Friday until this fic is completed.**

* * *

Lightning was there at 8:30. The stock car was waiting in the Rusteze bay, already painted in its original colours. Hicks arrived a few minutes later along with his pit crew. Lightning realized with dismay that he hadn't clarified how many laps this race would hold. Despite that, his resolve didn't falter.

Chick smirked as his crew set up, ready for the race. It was a miserable day, windy and overcast. The weather did nothing to put a damper on his mood.

"Brought my prize, kid?" He mocked. Lightning didn't grace his comment with a reply. Instead he reached into the stock car and put the cup on a table with a resounding _thud_.

"How many laps?" Lightning demanded.

"Two hundred," Hicks smirked. "If you can handle it."

"Oh, I can handle it," Lightning cut off Mack's protests. "I'm surprised that you can, _old man_." Lightning was more than ready to throw Hicks' derogatory comments back into his own face.

Hicks chuckled.

"Better hope you don't bust a tire," he mocked, waving to the empty pit box. Not a single pit crew member was in sight.

"I hope you brought a retirement planner," Lightning shot back, trying to hide his defensiveness. He didn't need a pit crew, he had Mack. They'd figure it out between the two of them.

Hicks sneered at the insult.

"See you at the finish line, rookie," he turned back sharply, out of comebacks. He quickly thought of a lame one and threw it back over his shoulder. "And remember, thunder always comes before lightning."

Lightning rolled his eyes, not bothering with a reply. He pulled on his gloves, glancing back at Hicks getting into the Buick. One of his pitties was making his way over to the starting line to act as flagman. They would start the race side by side.

"Kid… I don't like this," Mack muttered one last time. He glanced behind him at the extra tires. He could probably change them, but he wouldn't be fast enough. A slow pit stop would cost Lightning the race.

"I'm sorry, Mack," Lightning looked at him apologetically. "But I can't back out now."

Mack put on his headset and Lightning put on his helmet. He scrambled into the racecar and turned the key in the ignition. It rumbled to life and the familiar sound helped to calm Lightning somewhat. He drove out of pit row and onto the track, moving left and right to warm up his tires.

The track was eerily empty, just like his dream. He forced himself not to think about that.

"You there, Mack?" He asked into his headset.

"You know I am, kid," Mack confirmed. "Something wrong?"

"No…" Lightning replied, heading into turn two. "Just wanted to make sure."

Mack was here. This wasn't his dream. He wasn't going to crash out like the King had. He was going to win. Lightning watched as Hicks' pittie dropped the flag and took off next to Hicks. He'd taken the bottom line on purpose, and pushed forward in order to take the front.

Mack watched what he could of the race from his place in the pits. There were no cameras so he could only see the straight after turn four and before turn one. Worry twisted in his stomach and he suddenly felt petrified. No way he could change four tires and fill up a car without costing the kid some serious time. He wasn't qualified to do this! Not in the least!

 _Come on, Doc_ , the trucker thought to himself. _Hurry up_.

* * *

It was all a little bit fuzzy. But as Strip forced his eyes open some of it fell together piece by piece. He'd been here for a few days now. Vaguely he remembered the previous one. Lynda was there… She'd seemed relieved. The doctor had explained what had happened but he couldn't remember all of the facts. So he waited patiently, knowing that he'd soon come to his senses.

He was in a hospital room. No monitors were connected to him, which he supposed was a good sign. He carefully flexed his fingers. The ones on his right hand felt constricted. Right. Sprained wrist. That was the first thing the doctors had told him. He started sitting up, moving slowly and carefully. His left shoulder hurt a little. Dislocation. He remembered that as well.

"Easy there," a low voice murmured. Strip turned to see Gray sitting beside him, glancing up from a book he'd been reading.

"Hey…" Strip said, surprised that his voice didn't sound too raspy.

Gray didn't reply but helped him get settled. Strip wasn't hurting anywhere else so he figured he must still be under some kind of medication.

"How are you doing?" Gray finally asked once he was sure the other man was settled.

"Confused," Strip replied. He remembered parts of the last few days but there still were gaps in his memory that needed to be filled. Everything was blurring together in his mind, leaving him a little disorientated.

"Well, I was here for most of it," Gray closed the book. "Ask away."

"Lynda?" Was the first thing Strip asked. His friend wasn't surprised.

"Back at the hotel," Gray responded. "She's alright. Relieved now that you're completely in the clear."

Strip nodded, relieved. He went through the list.

"Luke?"

"Still here with Lucy. Managed to calm down once he heard you'd pull through."

"Roger?"

"Back in Dallas. Grandkid was having a birthday party."

"Tex?"

"He's still in town. I doubt he'll leave until you do."

Strip nodded, a fuzzy picture forming in his head. It wasn't exactly clear, but he was comforted by the fact that everyone seemed to be safe and sound.

"And you?" He asked Gray, glancing at his trucker. The man shrugged.

"I'm alright now that you are. You had us all pretty worried."

"Yeah…" Strip thought back. The events leading up to the crash was pretty clear but he could barely remember what had happened after the tires had left the road. Everything had happened so fast it was a blur. "Run me through what the doc said again."

"Concussion for one," Gray recalled slowly. "But no brain damage for which they're grateful for. Whiplash, which we all suspected. Sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder, and a few bruised ribs."

"All in all, I'm lucky," Strip summarized.

"Extremely so," Gray nodded. "They took you off the morphine last night. It's going to wear off in a couple of hours but you should be discharged later today."

Strip lay back against the pillows, trying to process all of the information. He still didn't know one very important thing.

"Kid won, right?" He asked.

"Sure did," Gray responded and Strip smiled slightly.

"Good," he sighed. He closed his eyes, satisfied. It wouldn't sit right to have Hicks win the Piston Cup. Despite the kid's attitude and recklessness, he deserved it.

Gray wanted to add that the kid had then promptly gone missing but decided against it. Lightning had been found late last night and Strip didn't need anything else to worry about. Right now, his racer just needed to rest and focus on recovering.

The silence that settled over them was similar to the truck ride over to LA. It was comfortable and Strip was glad for it. He closed his eyes and leaned back, but didn't drift off. He'd been doing enough sleeping the last couple of days in between the tests. Right now he just wanted his mind to clear and feel less hazy.

Gray put his book on the bedside table and pulled his phone out of his pocket, thinking that he should probably ask Mack about Lightning. He didn't expect the text that came through.

Strip didn't see Gray frown as he opened the message. He did, however, hear him exclaim as he read it.

"What's wrong?" Strip cracked open his eyes, grinning slightly. "Luke decide to take the truck for a joy ride?"

"Worse than that," Gray handed Strip the phone and the racer's smile immediately fell. The text was obviously serious. He took the phone, waiting for the words on the screen to stop blurring. It was from Hicks' driver.

 _Hey, guys, um… So, I found out this morning my guy's in an unofficial race with McQueen. Is this against the rules? I'm really worried about them. They've already started at the LA Speedway and I can't stop them. I don't know what to do._

It was Strip's turn to exclaim. He watched as the other truckers responded on the group chat.

 _You're kidding right? That's gotta be against the rules._

 _Not any rules I know, man. This should be legit._

 _Do you see Mack there? He could help you stop it_.

 _Cool, send me some pics._

"Does Mack know about this?" Strip asked Gray in bewilderment.

"I have no idea," Gray shook his head. "I'll try calling him."

Strip waited impatiently as Gray dialed the number. The trucker put the phone to his ear and waited. He was sent straight to voicemail.

"He's not answering," Gray shook his head. Strip had heard enough. He threw back the covers and shifted his legs over the side of the bed.

"Strip, no," Gray tried to stop him but the racer waved him off.

"Come on, we've gotta get there."

"But you haven't been discharged yet," Gray protested.

"Morphine's still working," Strip finally stood up, forcing the dizziness at bay. He was relieved that he wasn't in a hospital gown. Lynda must have brought him the jeans and t-shirt last night. "I'll be fine." He saw his favourite Dinoco jacket throw over a chair, and reached for it, shrugging it on before turning to Gray. "If Hicks tries something in that race the kid might end up far worse than I was. We gotta go."

Gray was convinced and pushed the door open. Strip followed him through, determined to keep the rookie from killing himself.

* * *

It was going badly. Lightning was a mess and Mack was completely unqualified to help him.

"Kid, just... calm down," the trucker tried as Lightning attempted to swerve past Chick.

"I am calm!" Lightning snapped back, seething in frustration as Hicks blocked him again.

Mack ran his hand over his eyes. Lightning's head wasn't in the game. His strategy was in complete shambles and the stock car was all over the place. He couldn't hold a line, his turns were sloppy and he was just barely keeping up with Hicks. Mack tried to help but the little he knew clearly wasn't enough. The trucker winced as his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket stared at Gray's name staring at him. He must have seen the text from Hicks' driver. Heck, every Piston Cup driver had seen that.

He let the call ring through and watched in dismay as the joint trucker line was spammed as everyone demanded to know what was going on. Mack put the phone face down on the table. He needed to focus for the kid.

"I can't do it, Mack," Lightning finally said after lap 26. He'd lost control and ended up in the grass. He was just pulling out, but Hicks was already a hundred feet in front of him. Mack flinched at Lightning's tone of voice. He sounded like he had last night, so lost and small. It made the trucker feel absolutely helpless.

"Kid…" Mack sighed. What was he supposed to say? "We'll be ok. Just do your best."

Lightning worked on trying to catch up to Hicks, but without a constant line he was struggling. Mack watched what he could, determined to stand with Lightning all the way to bitter end. He was so focused that he didn't hear the car pull up behind pit row. He didn't heard several doors opening and people scrambling out. He only heard the first door slam.

He turned around and saw someone walk towards him. It was an older man in a dark blue jacket. Doc! It had to be! He turned towards him in relief.

"You Doc?" He asked.

"Yeah," the man nodded. "You must be Mack."

"Thank goodness," Mack rambled, taking off the headset. "Race started only a few laps ago. Kid's been all over the place."

There was a screech over the headset and Doc flinched. The track was so huge he could only make out turns four and one from his position. Lightning was at turn three.

"Kid, you alright?" Mack asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Lightning growled. "I just can't catch up."

Doc signalled Mack to hand over the headpiece. Mack complied gladly, catching the last part of the kid's sentence.

"-be I should just quit."

"That's not gonna happen," Doc reported, slipping the headset in place. "I didn't come all of this way just to see you quit. It would be a waste be your talent."

"Doc!" Lightning exclaimed and Mack could hear his joy all the way from the other side of the line. Doc stepped towards the crew chief spot as he saw first Chick then Lightning come out of turn four.

"You!" Mack turned around and saw a man wearing army green standing by the tank. It was Sarge, the trucker realized. Doc had brought back up! "You know how to fill up?"

"Oh, um, kinda," Mack stuttered. "I'll show you what I do know."

He stepped towards Sarge but almost fell over two smaller men who were barrelling their way towards the tires. One of them was carrying a drill. Mack recognized them as well. Luigi and Guido! Doc had brought a whole pit crew!

The two Italians examined the tires stacked up neatly, ready to be used.

"These are not the quality we were expecting," Luigi tapped on them. "But they will have to do."

Mack watched in delight as the Rusteze pit was quite suddenly flooded. He recognized all of them from Lightning's descriptions. There was Flo with a cooler! Ramone was right next to her, his hair dyed Rusteze red and yellow. And Mater was there as well!

"Yo, man, you must be Mack," Ramone greeted him. "Sorry for just barging in on you like this."

"No, thank you," Mack had never been so relieved in his life. "This is… something else."

He turned back to where Doc was talking with McQueen. There was a confidence in the guy's stance as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. That confused the trucker. Lightning hadn't mentioned Doc knowing anything about racing.

That's when Mack noticed the text on the faded jacket.

 _Fabulous Hudson Hornet_. _51_.

Mack couldn't hide his shock. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet? He was Doc? He'd just been talking to a racing legend and he hadn't even realized it. His surprise was obvious to everyone around him.

"Yo, man, don't worry," Ramone patted him on the back sympathetically. "We've known him for years. Only found out last night."

Doc was completely oblivious to what was going on behind him, his attention fully focused on Lightning. He'd never used a headset in a race before but took it in his stride, happy to have a direct line with the hot head rookie.

"Yeah, kid, it's me. I thought you'd finished pulling stupid stunts like this," he tried to convey some disapproval in his voice but the only thing that came out was exasperation.

"The King's dead, Doc! He's dead!" Lightning sounded angry and Doc knew exactly what was wrong. Emotion was clouding the rookie's mind and he couldn't see straight.

"I know, kid, I know," Doc said quietly. His voice went firm, putting all the conviction in it that he could muster. "Now, you need to calm down. Your emotions are all over the place. Ignore Hicks… Focus on your line."

There was something about Doc's voice that calmed Lightning down almost instantly. He bit down his frustration and ignored Chick, focusing solely on the track for a whole lap. By the time they came around to where Doc could see them again, Lightning was already a few feet closer to Hicks.

"Good," Doc nodded. "Now, you're not that far behind. You can still win this thing. If you race half as well as you clean towns, you can win this thing with your eyes closed."

Lightning beamed, finally understanding what Mack had been on about at the previous race. Having a crew chief, someone at the other end of the line that could be relied upon... It made all the difference in the world.

"Thanks, Doc… For coming back," he risked glancing left towards pit row. He caught just a flash of dark blue as Doc stood there.

"Didn't have much of a choice," Doc grunted. "Mater didn't have a chance to say goodbye."

Mater, who was loitering around in the background, took this as his cue.

"GOOD BYE!" He hollered right next to Doc's ear, causing the man to jump. Lightning laughed.

Mater leaned back with a smug expression, rocking on his heels.

"Alright… I'm good."

* * *

They'd reached the elevator and Strip could feel his mind clearing already.

"You got a car here?" he asked Gray.

"Lynda took it back to the hotel to get some sleep," Gray explained. "She's supposed to come back later."

"Shoot," Strip looked down, thinking fast. "It's too far to walk." It would take too long and he knew he wasn't in any condition to run.

The elevator dinged and they walked onto the ground floor.

"I could go ahead? Maybe call a cab?" Gray suggested. Strip was about to reply when a familiar figure walked through the hospital front door. _Perfect_.

Tex swung the car keys on his finger. He'd gotten sick of rentals and figured that if was going to be stuck in traffic for the remaining time of Strip's recovery, he might as well be stuck in the his beloved Cadillac.

"Tex!" The billionaire turned at the familiar voice.

"Strip?" He asked, looking with surprise at his racer. "What the blazes are you doing out of bed?"

"It's a long story," Strip said hurriedly, glancing at the nurse's station. The attendant on duty had just noticed him. "We're gonna need these." He grabbed the Cadillac keys and tossed them towards Gray.

Tex just managed not to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

"Strip, what the heck are you doing, boy?" he asked, completely baffled.

"Excuse me! Mr. Weathers, you haven't been discharged yet!" The nurse was running towards them.

"I can't talk now," Strip said hurriedly. "Deal with her for me, will you?" Tex stood speechless for two seconds as Strip ran outside after Gray. "Sorry, Tex!" He called out over his shoulder. "I'll explain later."

Tex was just about to run after them when a very angry nurse blocked his way.

"Did you give him permission to leave?" She demanded.

"I most certainly did not!" Tex defended.

"Then what's he doing out of bed?" The nurse raised an eyebrow, but let him go.

"I'm tryin' to figure that out!" Tex ran outside. Gray was already in the Cadillac and Strip was in the passenger seat. They were pulling out of the parking lot.

"Strip!" He shouted, but the racer didn't hear him.

Tex stood dumbfounded for a moment. Strip had just stolen his Cadillac. And Gray was his getaway driver. What was going on? They wouldn't have rushed off without a good reason but he didn't have the slightest inclination as what that could possibly be. Well, he wasn't going to just stay here and wait for them to bring it back. The oil baron fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. The line rang once before it answered.

"Boss?"

"Rotor," Tex ordered. "I need the chopper."

"I'm at the hotel," Rotor reported. "I'll be in the air in twenty minutes. Where to?"

"The hospital," Tex was pleased that at least someone on his payroll hadn't lost their minds.

"Is something wrong with Strip?" Concern leaked into Rotor's voice as he pulled on his shoes.

"I'd say so!" Tex didn't bother to mask that he was upset. "Him and Gray just took off with my Cadillac!"


	14. Chapter 14

"There you are you little sucker."

Darrell reached for his jacket on the table, shaking his head at himself in exasperation. He'd been looking for it the whole week, ever since the LA race. It had finally occurred to him that he should probably check in the commentator's booth and here it was.

He glanced up as he heard two cars rush underneath him. The track must be open to the public then. He watched as two replicates turned into turn one, pretty impressed by the attention to detail. He was about to turn around when he saw a flash of green in his peripheral vision. Wait… why was Hicks' crew in pit row?

Darrell frowned and thought fast. He took a seat and quickly pressed the intercom button that connected him with the camera crew. They should be here today, ready to pack up the equipment for winter.

"Hey, Bill?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah?" Bill , he was here!

"You seeing what I'm seeing on the track?" Darrell questioned, watching the two cars exit turn 2.

"Just got here," Bill replied. "What is it?"

"We got ourselves a race," Darrell could feel the familiar excitement course through him. The two cars disappeared out of his sight and he pulled the chair closer to the window, keeping the line between him and Bill open.

"What?" Bill exclaimed. "I know it's open to the public but this is gotta be against the rules."

"This ain't the public!" Darrell said excitedly. "It's Hicks and McQueen!"

"What?" Bill asked incredulously.

"Quickly," Darrell ordered. "Turn on them cameras. I gotta see what happens."

Bill didn't need to be told twice and gave the order to his crew. They rushed to their respective positions and Darrell waited impatiently as two more laps took place.

The screen in front of him flickered to life.

"Coming through ok?" Bill asked from the camera room.

"Sure is," Darrell nodded. "Can you get me a shot of McQueen's pit crew? I don't reckon I've ever seen them before."

"Sure thing," Bill switched the screen. Darrell did a double take. It couldn't be… No… It couldn't be!

"Boogity boogity!" He exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear in excitement.

"What is it?" Bill asked, glancing at the screen. The group was rag tag, but what had the announcer so excited?

"It's… it's… I gotta call Bob!" Darrell didn't finish as he grabbed his cellphone, quickly dialing his cohost's number. It rang three times.

"Darrell?" Bob answered, confusion in his voice.

"Bob!" Darrell exclaimed. "Where are you?"

"At the airport," Bob reported.

"You through security yet?" Darrell asked.

"No…" Bob sounded confused. "Just about to though."

"Get back to the track immediately!" Darrell couldn't hide his excitement. "You don't wanna miss this!"

"Miss what?" Bob demanded.

"McQueen and Hicks are racing off!" Darrell rambled. "McQueen's got himself a pit crew! And his crew chief is the Fabulous Hudson Hornet!"

There was silence on the other end of the line as Bob digested this information.

"I'll be right over."

* * *

Lightning was on fire. Mack couldn't believe the change in the kid's style once Doc had shown up. He'd found his line and stuck to it, gaining on Hicks lap by lap. Lap 30… Lap 40… Lap 50… Doc watched everything. Mack had taken out an extra headset and Ramone and Mater were huddled around it, listening to every word racer and crew chief were saying. Mack was overjoyed! Half of Radiator Springs was here to support the kid.

Everything was going well until a tire blew. Lightning panicked for a brief moment, remembering the last time he blew the tire.

"It's alright, just come in," Doc ordered. "We're waiting for you."

He turned back to the crew.

"Make way," he told them, glancing to the two Italians. "You ready?"

Everyone moved to the back of the box giving Luigi and Guido all the space they needed.

"Si," Luigi pulled himself up to his full height.

Doc kept his eyes on Lightning using the screen. Turns out the camera crew was filming their race and Doc was sure he could see Darrell Cartrip in the studio. If Darrell knew Bob would soon know. His secret was as good as out.

Guido turned towards the tires, taking one to roll it in place.

"Hey, tiny!" One of Hicks' pit crew jeered at him. He glanced back, the obnoxious neon green jackets hurting his eyes.

"Those round things are called tires!" The other one jeered. "And they go under the car."

Guido's blood boiled and he tossed the tire down, ready to go give them a piece of his mind. Luigi's hand on his chest stopped him.

"No, Guido," he said, glancing toward the laughing 'professionals' dramatically. Luigi's eyes narrowed. "You will have your chance, Guido, you will have your chance."

Guido resisted the urge to give the men a chin swipe and turned back to the tire. He'd show them, bunch of uncultured barbarians. Doc stepped back, letting them do their thing. They positioned the four tires in a square, having the stock car's measurements memorized. Lightning would just have to stop at exactly the right spot.

He did.

The stock car had barely come to a full stop and the two were at the front left tire. Luigi inserted the jack, and Guido had the drill. _Bzzz bzz bzzz._ The tire fell to the ground and Luigi pushed the next one into place. _Bzz bzz bzz._ Done. They moved to the next front one, Guido sliding over the hood. The second tire was done just as quickly as the first one.

Hicks crew watched with jaws hanging as the third tire followed the other two. Guido was completely focused on the task in front of him. Bolts in, bolts out. Luigi moved with complete precision, lifting the car up quickly and slapping the tire in place for Guido at just the right moment.

They were finished in 8.6 seconds. Sarge had refilled by then and Lightning screeched out of there, V8 engine roaring.

Guido shot a side-glance at the Hostile Takeover box. Their fastest pit stop was 9.2 seconds. And there were four of them.

"Pit stop." _Bzzz bzz_.

"Bob!" Darrell shouted in excitement as his co-commentator burst into the studio and took the chair beside him. "I do believe you've just missed the fastest two-man pit stop in the history of the Piston Cup!"

Mack was grinning from ear to ear. They were going to win this! They had a shot. Lightning was bearing down on Hicks as the Hostile Takeover crew chief was trying very hard to focus on his own racer. He tried to give off the air that he wasn't intimidated by the Fabulous Hudson Hornet giving advice to his racer's competition. Doc just smirked easily at the other man's discomfort. Oh, man, this felt good.

They didn't notice as a gleaming Cadillac pulled in behind pit row. Strip was out of the passenger seat before the car rolled to a complete stop, leaving Gray to park it. The trucker pulled the key out of the ignition and hurried after Strip. He stopped for a moment as he saw a dark blue Hudson Hornet. It was an amazing replica. He pulled himself away and followed Strip to the Rusteze box.

"Mack!" Gray turned and saw the Dinoco trucker hurrying towards him. He was about to answer but stopped short. Was that the King? He tried stuttering out a response but could only stare as the Dinoco racer moved past him, wanting to get on a line with McQueen. Strip was surprised at the crowd in Lightning's pit but ignored their curious stares. He stopped short at seeing McQueen's crew chief with his back turned towards him. No way… It wasn't possible.

Doc turned around as he heard commotion behind him, not expecting to stand face to face with the King of asphalt. He forgot about Lightning for a second as he glanced at the man who'd been dominating the track for the last two decades. The man who Lightning had told him was dead. He looked pretty good for a dead man.

Gray glanced at confusion between the two, not realizing who the older man was. Mack did. He looked between the veteran racers, the only one in the box realizing the significance of the meeting in front of him. This was a standoff between two legends.

Doc spoke first.

"You the King?" He asked. It was a stupid question, but the only one he could come up with.

"Yeah," Strip nodded. "You the Fabulous Hudson Hornet?"

Also a stupid question, as it literally said so on Doc's jacket, but the older man didn't point that out.

"Yeah, that's me," Doc replied, nodding slightly. He's heard about Weathers of course, but had never actually expected to meet the man. It felt a little strange.

Both of them were pulled out of their thoughts as they heard a screeching on the tracks. Hicks had slammed into McQueen. Strip froze as he saw the kid sliding off the pavement and onto the grass. He was going too fast! He'd skid out and roll. He was too late!

Lightning didn't roll out, opting instead to turn his tires the other way. Everyone in the box watched as he drifted through the corner and ended up right back in front of Hicks.

"GO MCQUEEN!" Mater hollered. "WHOOO HOOO!"

"Did you see that?" Darrell exclaimed to Bob.

"Boogity, boogity, Darrell," Bob teased "You know the Fabulous Hudson Hornet was one of the greatest drifters there was. Seems Lightning picked up a thing or two."

Doc couldn't help but grin as he heard Lightning give his signature _kachow_ across the line. The grin turned even more smug as he glanced at where Hicks' crew chief was stuttering with his racer next to them.

"You teach him that?" Doc turned to see Weathers look at him in utter amazement.

"Not on purpose," He turned back to McQueen, unable to suppress the pride in his eyes. Kid had seen him do that once, and had used it at just the right moment. Unbelievable.

Strip glanced at the Fabulous Hudson Hornet, considering whether he should ask for the headset. Clearly the kid was a little bit crazy, but he wasn't going to step in while another pro was dealing with him. Hudson had it under control.

He didn't have to ask as Mack handed him the extra one. Doc made no move to stop him so he put it on. Hicks' crew chief saw this, and tried not seethe with jealousy. This was so unfair, the kid now had _two_ crew chiefs. And both of them were _really good_.

"You see that, Doc?" The kid was exclaiming. _Doc_. So that's what the Fabulous Hudson Hornet had become after disappearing.

"Sure did, kid," Doc replied. "Now, pay attention. There's someone who wants to talk to you."

Doc nodded to Strip, giving him permission to talk to his racer.

"Hey, kid," Strip greeted. There was a moment of silence as Lightning tried to recognize the voice.

"Mr. the King!" He practically squeeked.

"Yeah, it's me," Strip grinned slightly.

"You're alive!" Lightning was ecstatic.

"Last time I checked," Strip quipped. "What on earth made you think I wasn't?"

Doc was curious as well. What did the kid hear to get into this mess?

"I overheard two doctors talking last night," Lightning rambled. "They said a celebrity had died."

"A celebrity did die," Strip explained patiently. "Took his own life yesterday. We're in LA, kid."

Lightning thought back to the conversation and pondered it for a moment. Yes… In hindsight… that made more sense. A lot more sense.

"Oh…" He muttered sheepishly. "Guess I should have known that."

Strip shook his head in fond exasperation.

"I always knew you were stupid, but I didn't know it was quite this bad," he said.

Doc almost laughed out loud. It wasn't just anyone who could call Lightning McQueen stupid to his face. He liked this guy already.

"Don't matter now, kid," He cut in. "You're still gonna win this thing."

Lightning stopped talking as Hicks tried to pass him. He blocked him twice before slipping into turn four, taking the bottom line as Hicks tried to find his own. The Rusteze racer was almost giddy with relief. The King was alive! He was going to see him beat Hicks and get him off the track forever so that no one else would get hurt. It was better than anything he could have hoped for.

Upon reaching the straight, Lightning risked glancing to the left. There. He could just make them out. Dark blue standing next to light blue. The King and the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Lightning wished he had a camera to capture that moment.

"Kid, stop staring and focus," Doc scolded, somehow able to guess what Lightning was doing. The rookie rolled his eyes and complied as Strip took off the headset and relinquished it to Mack. Lightning didn't need him. He had the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.

Strip leaned against the rack of tires, relief flooding through him. Gray came beside him and they watched the screen, oblivious to the chilly breeze whipping through pit row. The excitement was contagious, the suspense exhilarating. They weren't going to miss this. Not for the world.

By the time they reached lap 150, Lightning was several feet in front of Hicks. Doc didn't let him relax, making sure Lightning's confidence didn't cost them the race.

"Getting comfortable is your enemy, kid," he told him. "You gotta put as much distance between yourself and the competition as possible."

Lightning took his advice to heart and chose the inside line. Hicks tried his best to keep up, but after years of drafting on Strip's line, he was struggling to find his own. Instead he tried following Lightning's but Doc was more than ready to tell Lightning how to confuse the Hostile Takeover racer.

Strip watched with immense satisfaction as Hicks fell further and further behind. If retirement meant watching Hicks get creamed by a rookie he should have considered it sooner.

When they reached the final lap, Lightning was almost 150 feet ahead of Hicks. The Hostile Takeover racer growled as he glanced up at the screen that showed Lightning in the lead. He wasn't even in the shot anymore!

"Last lap," Doc turned to look at Strip. "Anything Hicks'll try?"

"He'll try just about anything when he's desperate," Strip reported. "But at this distance… Not much he can do."

"Good," Doc nodded, crossing his arms in satisfaction. "That's the way I like it."

"Hey, McQueen!" Mater had slipped on the extra headset. "Doc says you're in the clear. Just keep doing what you're doing."

"You're in the clear for now," Doc clarified. "But it can change any moment."

"Mack?" Gray asked, suddenly noticing the Piston Cup. "Why'd the kid bring that here?"

Strip had noticed it as well, and tore his gaze away from the screen as the Rusteze trucker explained.

"That's the deal the kid made with Hicks," Mack told them. Mater turned towards him, curious. He didn't realize that Lightning could hear every word over the sensitive microphone.

"Deal?" Strip asked, suddenly worried. He'd been under the impression that this was a revenge race of some kind. No deal was supposed to be involved.

"It's like this," Mack said as Lightning came out of turn one. "If Hicks wins, he gets the Piston Cup. If Lightning wins, Hicks retires forever."

Mater grinned optimistically. His friend was so clever! That mean ol' driver was going to have to retire, that was for sure. Lightning was miles ahead of him.

Gray and Strip glanced at each other, seeing the flaw in the genius plan.

"Lightning didn't happen to get this in writing, did he?" Gray asked carefully. Mack's beaming face fell.

"No…" he said. "It was late last night."

Strip and Gray shared another look between them, the depressing realization dawning.

"It's not gonna work," Strip said somberly. "Hicks ain't gonna hold up his end of the deal. He's been after the Piston Cup for so many years he won't stop until he gets it or is thrown off the track."

Lightning heard what was said and it felt like a blow to the gut. The King was right. He'd been an idiot to challenge Hicks. No way the Hostile Takeover driver would live up to his word. _Stupid_. Chick would be back next season and back every other season he could to win the Piston Cup. He wasn't going to stop.

The rookie racer made no indication that he'd heard what the King had said but he could hear the heaviness on the other end of the line. No one said anything. He passed pit row again and glanced at the Rusteze box. They were all there, waiting in eager anticipation for him to win. But what would that accomplish? He'd only be able to keep his cup, that was it.

Lightning's gaze landed on the King. He could hardly believe it. Only a week ago the man had been unconscious and here he was, looking a little worse for wear but alive and well. It was nothing short of a miracle. That crash could have killed him so easily. And now that Hicks had done it once, he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. The next guy might not be so lucky.

The Piston Cup flashed on the table where he had placed it, catching Lightning's eye. It was his by right, it had his name on it. But it wouldn't be of any use if he kept it and someone else died next season. It would always serve as a guilty reminder of the King's crash. The Piston cup of 2006 had a stained legacy behind it.

His words the previous night to Mack echoed in his mind.

 _A Piston Cup isn't worth a man's life._

Lightning realized that, now more than ever. He saw the finish line coming closer and closer. Victory would be so sweet in the short term.

 _It's just an empty cup._

Lightning knew what he had to do. He braked, hard.


	15. Chapter 15

Rubber screeched against asphalt as Lightning tried desperately to keep from sliding out of control. Luckily he was on the straight and managed to come to a complete stop, just before the white paint. He took a few deep breaths, staring at the finish line in front of him.

In the Rusteze box, everyone gasped. Mack pulled his cap off. Luigi's jaw dropped. Mater looked at the screen, perplexed.

Bob and Darrell leaned forward in confusion, trying to see for themselves what was happening. The camera crew kept the camera completely still.

Doc smiled.

Lightning stayed absolutely still, staring at the line in front of him. He was frozen in time, stuck in a trance. If he didn't focus now, he'd go over that line. He couldn't afford to make that mistake.

A neon green blur raced past him and he sagged back in relief. He'd done it. He'd let Hicks win.

He watched the Buick in front of him do a burnout and felt no malice. He'd lost on his terms. Not many people could say that.

"Doc," Mater finally asked, stepping forward next to the crew chief. "Why'd he do that?"

"You'll see," Doc was still smiling ever so slightly. Together the rag tag crew watched as Lightning reversed the stock car, backing up until he could safely pull into pit row.

"What's he doing?" Darrell asked, glancing at Bob.

"I'm gonna go find out," Bob announced, turning to head out of the studio. Darrell followed.

Lightning pulled into pit row and unstrapped himself. His friends were standing there, all with stunned expressions on their faces. Even the King and Gray were looking a little confused. The King was catching on though.

The Rusteze racer scrambled out and pulled off his helmet. To his left he could Hicks' crew cheering, exuberant at their win. He didn't care though. He'd done the right thing.

"Kid," the King finally asked. "Did you just give up the Piston Cup 'cause of what you overheard on the line?"

Lightning could have said something noble at that point but it wasn't in his nature. Instead he just gave a lighthearted shrug.

"Meh, pretty much," he grinned. "I figured without you to keep him in his place next season, he was gonna hurt someone."

"So you took it upon yourself to give him what he always wanted," Doc said slowly. The whole crew watched quietly as the exchange took place. .

"Well, yeah," Lightning shrugged again, suddenly uncomfortable under the intense gazes of his friends. "Seemed like the right thing to do…" he glanced at Doc slowly. His eyes held a sense of pride, making Lightning smile ever so slightly. "Besides," he turned back to the King. "An old race car driver told me something once… It's just an empty cup."

Strip and Doc glanced at each other and Lightning caught a flash of respect in their eyes. Hicks pulled into the Hostile Takeover box and Lightning heard his crew celebrating. He remembered his joy at becoming the first rookie to win the Piston Cup. It paled in comparison to how he felt now.

"You're stupid, kid," Strip said bluntly. "But you've got heart, I'll give you that."

Lightning couldn't help but beam. Mater took this as his cue and came beside him.

"You done good," he congratulated. "I ain't never seen a fella lose that good before."

"Thanks, Mater," Lightning grinned. The rest of the crew came forward, all offering Lightning their congratulations. He was practically bursting with pride, his face shining. It was a stark contrast to Hicks' expression when he finally sauntered over.

"What did I tell you, rookie?" He mocked. "Thunder always comes before lightning. Now give me my prize."

He sounded so smug, but Lightning shrugged him off. Hicks' insults didn't bug him anymore. He had the respect of the King _and_ the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. That was so much better than a dingy old cup.

"Here you go," Lightning handed him the trophy with ease. Doc and Strip watched in admiration as Hicks grabbed it out of his hands. They knew how much work went into winning one of those. There was no way that they would part with one of their prizes so easily.

"By the way," Lightning added. "You're gonna need to have the name plate changed."

"Hey, man, I can do that for you if you want," Ramone said casually. "I got a marker right here." He pulled out a black permanent marker and Sarge chuckled.

Hicks' eyes narrowed as he saw Lightning standing there with an easy smile, looking relaxed and happy. He knew full well the stupid kid had let him win, probably for some noble or self-sacrificing reason. Still, he wanted to rile the rookie up a little. Maybe taunt him or something. But Lightning looked so chilled out Hicks knew he wouldn't be able to. He decided to forget Lightning and turned to Strip instead.

"Finally out of the hospital, old man?" He mocked.

"About time you got one of those," Strip commented casually, not taking the bait.

Hicks scowled before turning around and marching away. Those idiots weren't worth his time. He had some serious celebrating to do!

Lightning turned his back on the Hostile Takeover driver and looked around the Rusteze box, just taking it all in. Mack talking with Mater, giving the tow truck driver his Rusteze cap to try on. Flo handing out sandwiches to Sarge and Fillmore. Luigi and Guido tapping the tires on the car, nodding in approval at their job. Doc and the King standing quietly, casting small glances at each other inconspicuously, each trying to study the other racer.

It felt absolutely amazing.

'Uh…" Lightning turned to the empty pit beside him. A young photographer stood there, press pass on her shirt. She couldn't have been older than 19, just out of school. She glanced at the rag tag team in front of her, eyes flickering between the two older racers.

Doc and the King noticed her and turned around. She finally found her voice.

"I… was just… here…" she waved to the track. "For background shots of the track… Mr. the King… Fabulous Hudson Hornet… Sir… s"

Lightning wasn't even mad that she didn't acknowledge him. He and the King glanced at Doc, waiting for his response to the unspoken question.

Doc hesitated. If he let this kid have her shot, there would be no going back. His secret would be out and he'd be in the racing world to stay. The fact that she even knew who he was impressed him just a little. Maybe he hadn't been forgotten after all. He certainly wouldn't be after today. In the corner of his eye he saw Sheriff nodding, encouraging him. It was all he needed.

"Come on, boys," he sighed. "Let's have a picture."

The kid's eyes positively gleamed as she adjusted the camera. That day she took the best picture of her career. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet with the King on his left and Lightning McQueen on the right, his arms thrown casually over both of their shoulders. Lightning was practically beaming, hair tousled up from the helmet. Strip looked like he had no idea what was happening but had accepted that fact with an amiable smile.

The moment didn't last long.

A few seconds after the photograph was taken Strip grimaced. Pain spasmed through his ribcage and he was saved from collapsing by Doc's grip tightening on his shoulder.

"And that would be the morphine wearing off," he gritted out. Gray hurried over and kept him from collapsing by throwing Strip's arm around his shoulders.

"Where are you hurt?" Doc berated himself. This guy had been in a crash just a week ago. Surely he hadn't been discharged yet.

"Bruised ribs," Strip explained. "I'll be ok."

"We gotta get you back to the hospital," Gray steadied him, glancing back towards the Cadillac.

"That… won't be necessary," the veteran racer said as he heard a familiar pair of helicopter blades. Everyone in the pit glanced up as a light blue helicopter appeared over their heads. Seeing Strip in the Rusteze box, Rotor put the chopper down behind pit row, in between the two trailers. It was tight but manageable.

"Cool…" Mater stared at the shiny blue helicopter in wonder. Lightning had told him all about it but it was so much cooler in person. Rotor kept the bird running as Tex pulled off the headset and came towards the box, ducking to avoid the blades.

"That's Tex Dinoco," Lightning whispered to Mater. The tow truck driver watched in awe, having never seen a real billionaire before.

"Strip, what in the blazes is wrong with you?" Tex asked, coming up beside his racer. Gray was maneuvering him over towards the chopper. Strip's head was pounding now along with the sharp pain in his torso.

"Long story, Tex," Strip said as his sponsor came next to him. "Don't you think this is a little excessive?" He nodded towards the chopper. Rotor was waiting, chewing gum and studying them from behind the aviators. Strip was pretty sure the pilot found this all rather amusing. He wouldn't admit to it of course.

"I didn't know where you were headed," Tex tried to sound annoyed but it sounded more like fond exasperation. "Surprised me when I tracked you here."

"You have a tracker on the Cadillac?" Gray asked.

"Sure do."

Tex helped Strip into the helicopter and the racer sat down gratefully, only now realizing how tired he still was. He glanced back at the box, wishing he had time to say a proper goodbye to the Fabulous Hudson Hornet and Lightning. Still, he was sure they'd understand.

Tex stepped back with Gray, signalling to Rotor to take the bird up and get Strip back to the hospital. There was a horrible thudding noise as the helicopter took off, leaving the individuals below staring after it. Tex turned to Gray.

"Now, we need to have a talk about you just taking off with Strip."

Gray sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the Cadillac keys and giving them back to Tex. The billionaire took them and glanced at his beloved car, making sure there were no scratches on it. Once satisfied that Gray hadn't damaged it, he turned back to pit row. Time to figure out what was actually going on. Hicks and McQueen had raced one on one, that was clear. But why on earth would they do something like that?

He wasn't the only one with questions as Bob and Darrell ran across the track towards the Rusteze box.

Doc found himself surrounded by the two commentators, Darrell tripping over his sentences. He answered all of the questions with ease, surprised that the two men wanted to talk to him as opposed to Lightning.

Tex observed the interaction as Gray told him the whole story and why they had to run out. The sponsor just nodded, looking at Lightning interacting with the rag tag crew he'd picked up. The Rusteze racer finally noticed he was still there.

"Mr. Dinoco," he greeted.

"Lightning," Tex acknowledged. "You've been awfully busy lately."

Lightning glanced down a little sheepishly.

"Yeah… well… I got Hicks off the track. It's worth it."

Tex saw Hicks and his crew celebrating to the side, Lightning's Piston Cup in their midst. He wondered Chick really would retire or if his greed for the Dinoco sponsorship would win out. The crew had of course noticed the helicopter and Chick was glancing at him, considering whether he should march up and demand the sponsorship just to spite Lightning. Tex decided he wouldn't give him the opportunity.

"Lightning," he asked, slapping the boy on the shoulder. "Despite your actions here today, I'm still willing to offer you the sponsorship. What do you say, son? You want to race with Team Dinoco?"

The rookie was ready to say yes. What with the King being alive and Hicks off the field, this was the moment he'd be waiting for his whole life. Chick was looking on in utter jealousy, shocked. Old man Dinoco was still offering the sponsorship to Lightning? But he had the cup!

Before Lightning could answer, he heard a door slamming and glanced behind Tex. A familiar, green 1964 Dodge Wagon was parked next to Mack's truck.

"Lightning!" Rusty raced towards his racer, Dusty right behind him. Lightning flinched. He'd forgotten about his sponsors. Oh boy, he was in for it. They would demand to know everything. Why he'd disappeared, where he'd been, and why he'd raced off against Chick.

They didn't demand that at all.

"Are you alright?" Rusty grabbed Lightning by the shoulders and looked over him frantically for any injuries.

"We were so worried for you!" Dusty echoed. "Thank goodness you're safe."

Lightning couldn't hide his surprise. Here were his sponsors, prattling on and practically passing out in relief at his safety. By all rights, they should be furious. They should be demanding an explanation. Their biggest concern should be the car - not him. But they seemed genuinely relieved that he was safe.

Yeah, these guys were bumbling businessmen from the wrong end of Boston. But they were willing to give him a chance when he was a rookie with nothing else but a passion to race. Their brown eyes held the same loyalty in them that Mater did, the same loyalty that Mack had. He couldn't betray that for anything in the world. And he was starting to realize that he didn't _want_ to betray that loyalty for anything in the world. It was easy to make up his mind.

"You know what, Mr. Dinoco," he turned towards Tex. Only then did the brothers realize that the other sponsor was even there. "Thanks… But these guys here," he nodded towards them. "They gave me my first big break. I think I'd like to stick with them."

For a split second Tex was stunned and wasn't quite sure what to say. Rusty and Dusty saved him from having to.

"Wow, kid, you really mean that?!" Rusty was overjoyed.

"We're so lucky to have you," Dusty went on. "And you can keep racing for us as long as you want!"

Tex stood back, more than impressed. Lightning McQueen was something else. One heck of a racer, loyal to a fault, and unpredictable as the weather. He'd get him on his team yet.

Sheriff cleared his throat behind Lightning and the racer turned, seeing the Radiator Springs crew waiting expectantly to be introduced.

"Oh, right," Lightning said. "Rusty, Dusty, these are the people I stayed with while I was gone in Radiator Springs. Guys, these are my sponsors. And this is Mr. Dinoco," he introduced hurriedly.

"So," Tex glanced over the individuals. "Radiator Springs… That the place the Fabulous Hudson Hornet's been hiding?"

The town jumped at the chance.

"Cutest little town in Carburetor County!" Sheriff said enthusiastically.

"Home of Casa Della Tires," Luigi was first.

"Flo's Cafe!" Flo cut in.

"Sarge's Army Surplus Store."

"Fillmore's Organics,"

"Ramone's Paint Supply."

"Mater's scrapyard!" Mater sounded extremely proud of himself.

"Alright, that's enough," Doc cut in, stepping into the fray and glancing at the three sponsors. "If you're so curious about it, you'll have to come see it for yourselves."

There was a glint in Doc's eyes, and Lightning couldn't help but smile.

'We'd love to come visit," Rusty cut in.

"I was actually thinking we could make it the racing headquarters," Lightning said excitedly.

"What?" Doc looked at the rookie incredulously. "Kid, what are you doing?"

Tex and Gray headed towards the Cadillac as Doc was ganged up on by Lightning and the Rusteze brothers. Lynda would be back at the hospital at any moment.

"So," Gray asked. "What do you think?"

"Quaint little town in the middle of Arizona desert," Tex mused. "Home to the Fabulous Hudson Hornet and now Lightning McQueen… Good luck keeping Strip away."

Before they left, Tex pulled Lightning aside.

"This is off the record," he warned. "But after what you did here today, Hicks is finally off the track. If there's ever anything Dinoco can do for you, let me know."

"Thanks," Lightning grinned, just about to decline the offer. He had everything he needed. A best friend, good sponsors, and a grumpy crew chief. Come to think of it though, he still had a promise to keep.

"Actually… There is one thing."

* * *

Lightning walked away from his unofficial race with zero repercussions from the racing board. Several reasons played into this. The first was that they were secretly relieved to have Chick Hicks off the track. His behavior had caused quite the stir and Dinoco finally stopped putting pressure on them. Secondly, the kid was a superstar. Everyone heard about the unofficial race or watched it after it was released by Bill. Lightning was hailed as a hero, despite the fact that he lost.

No one ever knew the exact circumstances surrounding Lightning's disappearance, but the details were quickly forgotten amidst the excitement of seeing the Fabulous Hudson Hornet show up as his crew chief. Rumours and theories went flying around but no one bothered to offer any real explanation. Let the world think what it wanted. The residents of Radiator Springs knew the truth.

The photograph went viral after the race. The kid managed to have it signed by all three of the racers and it became a common goal among Piston Cup fans to have it autographed. All three racers had it framed. That, however, wasn't even the best part. The best part of the photograph was in the background, in the uncropped version. There stood Chick Hicks, holding a Piston Cup, and fuming that the one member of the press around to witness his victory didn't even care enough to take his picture.

No one ever asked for his autograph as it would ruin the picture.

The Rusteze brothers were more than happy to have Lightning put up his racing headquarters in Radiator Springs. They were relieved that the kid had finally found himself a crew chief that could actually handle him. They only gave Doc one piece of advice.

"Just don't teach him to drive like my brother," Rusty quipped as he elbowed Dusty in the ribs.

"So long as he doesn't drive like my brother," Dusty was quick to recuperate.

Doc had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and Lightning grinned.

The Fabulous Hudson Hornet found himself back in the racing world almost as fast as he'd been thrown out of it. Darrell couldn't stop talking about his reappearance for a week and Bob could attest to that. Doc promised him that he'd be back with Lightning next season as official Rusteze crew chief.

Radiator Springs was put back on the map. How could it not be with everything that had happened? Mater and Lightning pleaded with Doc for the old Piston Cups to put into a racing museum the town was setting up. Doc relented. He finally opened up the garage and Sheriff informed him he'd have to tidy it up. Tourists were rolling through, their town needed to look completely spic and span. The Cozy Cones were booking up so quickly Sally could finally afford to reopen the Wheel Well.

Chick Hicks retired and signed a deal to become a talk show host.

Doc finally sent the letter he should have years ago. He got a reply two weeks later, the familiar handwriting on the envelope making him grin. He tore it open alone in his garage, heart pounding as he pulled out the letter. It was short, simple, and straight to the point.

 _Hud, I'm impressed._

 _You somehow managed to find a kid even more stupid than you are._

The King recovered quickly at the thought of a visit to Radiator Springs. The road trip with the whole crew was out, but Gray and Luke still wanted to go. Lynda and Lucy had heard all about the little town and announced that they would be going as well. Tex decided that he might as well take some time off and join them.

They rolled into town a few weeks after the crash and found it bustling with activity. Strip realized he wasn't the only racer there as Junior Earnhardt was standing outside the new racing museum. Lynda and Strip joined him and the three took the tour with Mater, the enthusiastic best friend of Lightning McQueen. As they left to find the Fabulous Hudson Hornet and Lightning, Strip told the tow truck driver to head on over to the outskirts of town. There was a helicopter ride waiting there for him.

As Strip and Lynda made their way over to the butte, they noticed Lucy and Luke over by Casa Della tires. Luke was standing in front of Guido, arms crossed as the Italian fired off at him in his native tongue.

"Little man, I don't understand a word you're saying," Luke announced. "But I like you!"

The two seemed to become instant friends and Strip had a suspicion that there would be a pretty interesting rivalry next season as to who was the fastest pittie.

Over at Sarge's shooting range Strip heard two distinctive gunshots. The army veteran and Tex were trying to settle the revolver vs magazine-fed pistol debate for once and for all. Mack and Gray were at Flo's enjoying her wonderful lemonade. They'd already praised the cafe on the trucker group chat and Flo expected business to be booming next season.

Lynda slipped her arm through Strip's as they walked down towards Willy's Butte. She was relieved now that he was retired and that it was off season. They'd have a whole lot of time to do things together as a couple. Goodness knows they needed it.

They stopped as they reached the incline and just looked over it, taking in the scenery.

"Wow," Strip said quietly, glancing at the vast desert around them. As impressive as it was, his gaze inevitably lingered down to the track around the butte. They watched the Hudson Hornet take turn two, Lightning's stock car following close behind.

"Are you talking about the landscape or the car?" Lynda teased, seeing right through him.

"Both actually," Strip admitted, making his way slowly down the incline. He watched as the Hudson Hornet swerved off to the left, seemingly disappearing in the cacti. The stock car screeched to a halt, backing up to see what had happened.

The Hudson Hornet appeared in front of him, taking the last turn with ease.

"Not all my tricks, rookie!" Doc grinned victoriously as Lightning tried in vain to catch up with him. They crossed the finish line and stopped just as Lynda and Strip reached the bottom. Lightning scrambled out, still fuming at Doc's underhanded trick. The older racer only grinned and pulled off the headset he'd been using to communicate with his protege. Noticing the two guests, he stepped over.

"Weathers," he greeted. "Good to see you looking better."

Strip introduced Lynda just as Lightning bounded up.

"It's official Mr. the King," Lightning beamed. "I have Doc as my official crew chief."

"Kid, when I told you to get one this isn't exactly what I had in mind," Strip couldn't help but say as his eyes drifted over towards the Hudson Hornet and the dirt track legend. Lynda smirked, seeing right through him for the second time that day.

"Jealous?" She teased, leaning against him.

"Extremely," he confessed as Lightning chuckled. Roger would understand.

The rookie was distracted as Junior came down the incline, eager to see what all the action was about.

"Woah," he stopped short, looking at the Hudson Hornet as if it were a diamond. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Sure is, Junior," Strip said. He felt exactly the same as the other racer. He was just better at masking it.

"Junior Earnhardt?" Doc asked, glancing at the younger racer.

"Y… Yes… sir," Junior stuttered. Doc was looking at him rather strangely.

"I knew your grandfather," Doc elaborated. "Raced against him. Good man. Glad to see you've kept at it."

Junior almost passed out on the spot. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet remembered his grandfather! He barely kept himself from geeking out.

"You here with the car?" Lightning butted in, bringing Junior back to reality.

"Nah, had to leave it," Junior glanced towards Lightning's, catching onto his meaning. "Maybe next time though. It'll be fun."

"You should join us sometime as well," Doc glanced at Strip. The streak of competitiveness that had been prevalent during his youth was sparking up again. How well would the King perform on dirt?

"I'd love to," Strip accepted. "But the 'bird's probably totalled." He glanced back behind him, remembering where the car was in the trailer. Roger was determined to make something out of it, but the racer didn't want to get his hopes up.

Doc was about to reply when Sheriff's cruiser pulled up next to him, lights flashing. The officer leaned out of the window.

"Doc, you'd better come," Sheriff said. "Luigi and Guido have passed out. There are a bunch of Italians around them."

Doc shot Lightning a disbelieving look.

"What?" Lightning defended. "They had Ferraris."

"Alright we're done for the day," Doc sighed, heading to the passenger side of the cruiser.

"Can I drive the Hudson Hornet back? Please?" Lightning asked. Doc almost rolled his eyes out of frustration. Somewhere in Lightning's head he'd gotten the idea that he was responsible enough to drive the Hornet. Doc was considering letting him one day, but it wouldn't be in the near future, that was for sure. Still, Lightning was being pretty obnoxious about it.

For a brief moment Doc considered just letting him. Then a better idea came into his head and he grinned. Normally he wouldn't even consider this… But Weathers was responsible and the look on Lightning's face would be worth it.

"Hey, Weathers," he called. He tossed the man the keys and Strip caught them instinctively. "You can take her around once," Doc said sternly. "And slowly. Lighting will show you where to put her afterwards."

Strip looked like he'd been handed the keys to Fort Knox. Lightning's jaw dropped, completely offended. Doc grinned at the hot shot's expression. Totally worth it.

"Why does he get to take her around?" Lightning whined as Doc got into the cruiser.

"'Cause he's responsible," Doc glanced out at the rookie.

"But I'm responsible too," Lightning whined again. Doc _hmphed_.

"Win seven Piston Cups," the veteran racer responded. "Then we can talk."

Sheriff pulled away and Lightning frantically did the math in his head to write the date down on his calendar. Lynda pulled a practically giddy Strip towards the Hudson Hornet, eager to take a lap herself.

Lightning let Junior take his stock car around for a slow lap as he stood and basked in the feeling of his new home. There was a familiar humm of engines close by. He could hear gunshots from Sarge's shooting range. There was laughter in the town as tourists finally flowed back in.

Glancing up, Lightning saw a helicopter coming towards him and grinned. He could hear Mater hollering in the co-pilot seat, holding onto the headset and looking like a kid in a candy store. Rotor was surprised at his rowdy passenger but decided it was kinda fun. Hey - at least the kid was enthusiastic, right? Mater who-hooed as Rotor dipped down low into a valley before pulling back up again.

Back in town, Lightning heard Sheriff's police siren kick to life. No doubt those neon cars Mack had talked about were stirring up trouble again.

Lightning was held in Radiator Springs against his will after the most traumatic weekend of his life. He'd been forced into community service and had whined, complained and fought the town every step of the way. He'd found a living legend who wanted nothing to do with him. He'd been uprooted as soon as he was starting to settle. Once in LA, he'd stupidly challenged his rival to a stupid one-on-one race due to an even more stupid misunderstanding. But considering how it all turned out, he realized he wouldn't have it any other way. Not at all.

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! It's been great seeing everyone's reactions. Let me know what you think now that it's the end!**


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